0 comments/ 11713 views/ 1 favorites The Queens Maid By: Lucreace They've been fighting again, there's a chill in the air despite the sun streaming through the open window. I'm sat with my back to the sun trying my best to concentrate on the cloth I am stitching. When the King and Queen fight, it's best for everyone else to stay out the way. Anne's face is a little flushed as she sits at her desk writing some letters, no doubt they'll be slating Louis to her friends back in Spain. It's something she does when they go through a spat like this. I continue my neat little stitches with the two other ladies while listening to the scratches of the quill scraping against the paper. The scratch, scratch, scratch of her pen was almost as irritating as Maria's sniffing. Anne scrunches the letter into and envelope and looks around, "Constance!" she barks. "Yes your majesty." I say putting my sewing aside and standing up. "Take this to the post master." She said thrusting the letter into my hands. I drop a small curtsy and leave the room. I'm glad to be out of there if I'm honest, the heat was getting too much and I can sense an outburst from Anne at any moment. With a bit of luck she'll have calmed down before I return. It's not far to the post master's office but I take the long route, a stretch of the legs is always welcome and I love how this dress feels against my skin. It's the blue satin one which I brought only last month. Anne thinks the colour becomes me and it's so soft and rustly. I'm so busy listening to the sound of my own movements I collide straight into one of the King's Musketeers. His strong arms catch me and stop me from hitting the floor, my eyes meet his stunning blue ones for a brief second and I blush scarlet. "Are you alright?" he asked letting me free again. "I'm sorry." I stammer, flattening my crumpled dress with my hands. I touch my hair as well; making sure it's still fixed in its curls. It wouldn't do to go back to the Queen looking dishevelled. "Are you hurt?" he said again, trying to catch my eye. I can't look at his face, not with my cheeks this red but I raise my head a bit to not be rude. "I... I'm fine, thank you." The letter! I glance about and see it lying between the Musketeer's feet. He glanced down and spotted the offending piece of paper and stooped to pick it up. "This belongs to you?" he asked. I couldn't find my voice; I just nodded like a simpleton. "I don't know you do I?" "No Monsieur, we have not been formally introduced. I am one of the Queen's hands." I said with a curtsy. My heart was pounding in my ears and my palms were damp. The way he looked at me seemed to leave my bare flesh on show for all to see, as though he could sense a small trace of mischief in my mind. I didn't have any and I didn't want him to run off with the Queen's letter. Why did I choose this way? Why didn't I head straight to the Post Master and back again like I was supposed to. "Hoi! D'Artagnan, are you coming?" another musketeer called from along the corridor. The Captain Lieutenant looked up and gave a nod. "Excuse me Mademoiselle; we'll have to continue this conversation another time." He took my hand in his gloved one and raised it to his lips. He handed the offending letter back to me before striding off to join his companion. I clutched the letter to my chest and fled away, eager to be as far away as I could get. Blood pounded in my ears and my legs were shaking as I ran. I didn't stop until I had reached the post master's room. I took a moment to compose myself outside the door before entering. The post master is a quiet man, something I am thankful for as no doubt he would has asked about my flushed complexion. He took the letter from me with the ghost of a nod and I left again, heading back to the Queen's rooms the quick way. I wasn't going to run the risk of another encounter with the Captain-Lieutenant. Not twice in one day, the fright would kill me I'm sure. At least he hadn't tried to cross examine me or ask after the contents of the letter. I made it back to the Queen's apartment to find Anne deep in conversation with Maria, there is nothing for me to do but pick up the sewing and carry on where I left off. "Welcome back Constance. I trust the letter was delivered unmolested" Anne said as I sat down. "Yes Majesty." "But you look flushed young lady, nothing untoward happened I hope." Maria asked "No my Lady. I bumped into Monsieur D'Artagnan." "The letter?" "Was sent as requested Majesty. He asked me nothing; he handed the letter back to me and was called away." I explained. "Why the flushed complexion?" Anne asked. "I was scared of him." "Of gentle D'Artagnan? Don't be a silly girl, he'd never harm you. He's been on my side for a while now." Anne said with that lovely smile of hers. "He knows you're one of my ladies." I let out a sigh of relief. I've been here a month now and things are still a bit new to me. I've tried to avoid being noticed by official people here. I've been warned that some people here are dangerous and keeping a low profile was high on my agenda. "Was he polite to you?" "As a nobleman should be." I said. "Then what are you fretting for?" she asked before turning back to Maria. He had been the perfect gentleman I thought as I picked up my sewing again and if Anne said he was safe, then it must be true. I trusted her so relaxed and lost myself in my needlework. I was working on a wonderful rendition of Arabian Nights in silk. It'll make a beautiful wall hanging when it's finished. The rest of the afternoon passes without much activity and we're soon dressing for dinner. Or rather, helping Anne dress for dinner, her ladies don't change; just add a little perfume to the pulse points. The Queen was debating whether to have dinner in her apartments rather than the ballroom, since she'd quarrelled with the King but Maria, ever her advisor, suggested she should go. It would help mend any hurt done she'd said. So it was that I found myself seated on the low table with the other maids that night. The King was very fond of grand affairs, it is well known throughout Paris and I admit, I do like to see the ladies in their fine dresses and the gentlemen all dressed up, Most of them I don't know and they're too busy being important to notice a little thing like me. Some of the men have asked after me but no more than a passing fancy. I am well-bred but not well enough for them to take anything from me. Francoise is sat with me and she's pointing out several people to me, as though they are the ones that matter the most in the world. I know she means well but I can't help but be a bit bored of her prattling. She's already told me three times that that Lord is chasing that Lady despite his being married to her over there. It seems that all she lives to hear about is the scandals that happen. My father had warned me to stay away from such things and to conduct myself like a true lady. He had little money in the form of a dowry for a marriage for me so all I have is my chastity He had to use that to negotiate the best deal he could, which so far, was nothing. I shake my head out of reverie and turn my eyes back to the Queen. She's conversing with her husband while they share a plate of sweet delicacies. It seems like all is mended in that area, for the time being at least. I take a sip of the wine I have been poured and beg to take my leave. I'm tired and long for the calls of my own room. It's not my turn to wait up for her Majesty and help her undress so getting dismissed is an easy task. The palace is a wonderful place and there are times when I walk around in awe of the beauty of the place. My rooms are on the other side of the building and I take it easy. The wine has made my head swim a bit and if I'm honest some fresh air would do me the world of wonders. "Are you going to walk into me again?" I lift my head and smile. D'Artagnan smiles right back at me and the movement lights up his handsome face. "Only if you wish it Monsieur." I reply. This time, I am not too afraid to look at the young man. "Well well, she speaks!" "I spoke earlier." I reply as he strides over to me. My, well, isn't he tall, I feel almost dwarfed with him so close to me, "Though maybe not so boldly, which is something you're going to have to forgive me for. I've had a glass of wine which has made me quite giddy." I say. "And put a beautiful colour in your cheeks too I dare say." "I don't doubt." "Where are you running to at such a late hour? Shouldn't you be with your ladies?" he asked. "I was on my way back to my apartment." I said gesturing down the hall, "I have drank a little too much I fear and wish to retire, although the thought of getting a breath of fresh air is a pleasant one as well. I had not made up my mind where to go yet, truly." I explain. I know I am rambling but can't seem to help it. "I would be happy to escort you into the fresh night if you so wish it." He said. "I'd like that." I nod and he lends me the crook of his arm. I slip my own through his and he leads me out the great palace doors and into the cool gardens. The large avenue of trees is well lit and there are a few other walkers around as well. Anne was right, he is a safe person to be with, and handsome as well! I slip side long glances at him as we walk along which he pretends not to notice. "Will you tell me your name?" he said as we round a bend in the path. "Constance," I tell him. He gives me a smile that reaches his eyes and stops walking. "Is this far enough?" "Yes. I should get back before I am missed, people will start talking if they know I'm missing from my apartments. I don't want to be a part of a scandal." I explain. "I'll slay anyone who calls into question your honour. I shall not have it said that this little walk in innocence is anything more than what it is." He said, a frown crossing his high forehead. "My mind shall rest easy knowing I have you to defend my honour." I said. "So, where do you come from?" D'artagnan asked as we walked back. "I have family in Rouen and that is where my parents are and indeed, where I grew up before being sent here." I reply. "I miss my home." "And you're family too I'm sure but Paris has its merits too no?" "It has beautiful gardens and good company but nothing will ever be the same as my home. Do you not agree? This place does not hold the same memories and happinesses." I said. "But there is time to make new memories." He said with a smile which reached his eyes. "Yes." I agreed, we'd reached the entrance to the palace again and D'Artagnan led me back inside. "Are you feeling better my lady?" he asked. "Yes, my thanks for escorting me outside." "Will you be all right getting back to your apartments?" "Yes, thank you again. I feel much better for the walk and the company." I say with a smile, it's not flattery either, I do feel much better. "Then I shall take your leave." He said, brushing my hand against his lips. His moustache tickled my fingers and a giggle escaped me. He inclined his head before walking off down the corridor. I watched him go despite myself before turning and heading back to my own rooms. The Queens Maid Ch. 02 The next few days followed a similar pattern, although I didn't see my new friend again, nor did I drink much wine. When I thought back on my behaviour, I was mortified. I didn't dare tell anyone about the encounter and no one seemed to notice my indiscretion either. I had to deliver many more notes and letters for the Queen and I began to know my way around better too. My face was becoming more familiar and these little excursions seemed to take a little longer each time. I'd made more friends and it was always a delight to see them while I was running errands. Lorraine was usually out at the same time as I it seemed and we always stopped for a hushed conversation when our paths crossed. She was maid to Duchess Chevreuse, best friend of Anne so we often shared whispers of conversations they'd had. They were always up to something those two and it was good to share tidings with each other. An early warning was a welcome thing, especially where trouble was concerned. What went ill for our mistresses usually went ill for the maids as well. The days flickered by and I remained the messenger, fetching and bringing the mail for the Queen. I was no closer to achieving my goal of making a good match during my service. I've had vague interests but the poor maid from Rouen was overlooked in favour for her richer companions. I didn't mind, I had begun to enjoy my new found freedom, something I never experienced at home. It was nice not having my father watching my every move. One afternoon, the Queen decided to take a walk in the grounds with her ladies. The chance to get outside was welcome as we'd just had a spate of bad weather. The sun was warm and we retired to the secluded gardens. The servants brought us tea and after we'd dined, we pulled out our needlework and set to talking about everything. "Constance." Anne said turning to me, "Can I entrust you to take this order?" "As always Majesty, to whom shall I deliver it?" I ask putting aside my work. "The post master." She replied handing me a letter. This one is sealed and stamped so it must be an important one. I give a curtsy and hurry on to the office. I deposit the letter, leaving it in the hands of Roaul, the post master's assistant and turn away, back to the glorious sunshine. I'm half way back when I'm accosted by a man I don't recognise. "Mademoiselle Bonacieux." He asks. I nod, "Please, come with me." He said, there are a couple of armed men with him and the blood drains from my face. "Why?" I ask with a frown, "The Queen is expecting my return any moment." "Never mind the Queen, you have to come with us now." He said again, this time taking my arm and pulling me towards the door. The armed guards fall in behind me and his claw like grip on my arm digs into my flesh. I should make some kind of noise but my throat is so dry only a hoarse croak comes out. A carriage is waiting for us just outside and I feel my legs tremble, my head spins round and as I'm piled into the carriage the world goes black. * * * When I come to, I'm not sure where I am, I'm lying on a bed in a dark room. There's a curtained window so it must be night time. The walls are covered in flaking white paint from what I can see, which is little, seeing how there is no candle in the room. I rise from the bed and feel my way to the door, a quick test of the handle tells me it's locked. Damn. I bang on the door with my fist but no one answers. I return to the bed and lay back down. I stifle the rising lump in my throat and turn to face the wall. I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from crying. Anne will come find me. She will. I tell myself. I've been a friend to her these past few weeks. She'll know what to do. I awoke again after the sun rose, the light filtered through the gap in the curtains onto my face. The room looks worse by day than it did by night. The paint is clinging to the walls as best it can but the damp has interfered with that battle. I get up and walk around the room, if only to stretch my aching limbs. I knock on my door again but no one answers. They can't leave me in here forever can they? I go to the window and throw open the curtains. I don't recognise the area of town we're in, if we're even in Paris anymore. I sit back down on the bed with a sigh; I can't sleep anymore so I content myself with staring at the ceiling. I wonder what they want with me, what they'll do to me. They must want information on the Queen, which I will not betray. She has many enemies at court and the gossip of a little maid would be useful. I go off into a daze while I stare at the ceiling; I'm not sure how long it's been when my door finally opens. A strange man enters my room and I sit up. "Mademoiselle Bonacieux, you will come with me." I follow the man in silence, wishing I had a knife on me so I could stab him and run away. I glare at the back of his head instead and he ushers me into another room. This one has a chair in the middle of it, a desk with another chair behind it in front of the chair and a candle sconce on the wall. I was to be interrogated it seemed. "Please, sit." He said. I did as I was told and he left me in the room alone. Moments later, the door opened again and in stepped Cardinal Richelieu. I have only seen the man before in passing, up close, he is even scarier. He walked behind the desk and glared at me. "Do you know why you have been brought here?" he asked settling into his seat and leaning over. I shake my head and my knees begin to tremble. Be Strong I tell myself. "You're favoured by her Majesty Queen Anne and deliver her letters for her, is this correct." I open my mouth to speak but only a small squeak comes out. I nod my head instead. The Cardinal leans back in his chair and sighs, "What can you tell me about those letters?" he asks. I open my mouth to speak but my wayward voice refuses to respond. A quick cough clears my throat. "I am not privy to the contents of her letters your eminence. I take them to the post master and leave again." I say, trying to keep my voice calm. His brow narrows and he leans forward on the desk. I try to swallow but my throat is too dry. "You do not see who the letters are addressed to?" "I am asked to deliver the notes, not to read the front or back." I reply, "Her majesty does not tell me who she writes to and I do not pry into her affairs." "Are all the maids as discreet as you?" "We would be of no use to Her Majesty if we told her every secret to everyone who asked." I replied, I know it was rude but it was the truth. He seems to ponder my glib response before opening his mouth again. "What do you know about a plot against His Majesty's most trusted advisor?" "I've heard nothing." "To lie on such a count and be caught would be seen as high treason." He said. That would mean execution. I swallow again and look him straight in the eyes. "I know of no plot." I repeat. "May death come on swift feet to the enemies of the King." I add. He nods and rises from the chair. "What will become of me?" I ask as he approaches the door. "That waits to be seen." He says before leaving. Moments later the same guard who brought me in here collects me and returns me to the other room. He locks me in and I'm once again left on my own. There is a plate of food on a small table and a jug of cool water. I take a long drink from the glass and pick up the bread roll. How long have I been gone now? I hope to God that someone has noticed my absence and someone is coming for me. I cross to the window and try to open it but the glass has been sealed in somehow. There is no way to open it from this side. If I had a knife, maybe I could force it open. Once again I realise how handy it would be to carry one. I should ask her Majesty if I can do so when I get back. Or even better, a sword. A sword would be more useful than a knife in a situation like this. I lay back down on the bed, there was nothing else to do but lay there and try not to think too much. I must have slept some because when I open my eyes again it's dark. There's noises coming from outside the window, I spring from the bed and to the sill. I can't see much outside but I can hear raised voices. The sound of something made of glass shattering pierces the window and I look about, straining to see something. I tap on the window but get no response. Nothing appears in the gloom and the sounds recede so I return to the bed. The thump of boots approaches my door followed by a harsh thud. Another thud and the door splinters, one more and it flies off the frame. Light floods into the room and the silhouetted outline of one of the King's guard fills the room. "Are you here to save me?" I ask. "Of course." "D'Artagnan?" I say, I think it's his voice. "Yes Mademoiselle. Are you hurt?" "No." A hollow pit forms in my stomach and I find my legs are suddenly trembling. I place a hand on the bed frame to steady myself and try my best to hide my weakness. "But you're close to fainting." He said striding into the room and taking my arm. His hands are strong and I feel better for having him close to me. I am to be liberated! "Sit a moment." He guides me down to the bed before running to the door. "I have her." He calls down the corridor. More boots approach the door and one of his companions appears. "Wait here." He said, "I'll fetch the carriage and we're away!" he scarpers off leaving me alone with D'Artagnan. "You came for me." I said. "Did Her Majesty send you?" "I saw you ushered into a carriage the other day as I was returning to Paris from a mission. I had intended to call upon you that evening so went to the Queen immediately. Her Majesty said she had only sent you on an errand and was expecting your imminent return. When I related what I'd seen, a search was ordered and here we are." He explained. "Thank God you saw me." I said, my voice catching in my throat. He sits beside me on the bed and puts an arm around my shoulder. I lean against him and breathe in his scent, a sort of spicy smell, all adventure and sunshine, with traces of salt air too. I cannot help wonder where he picked it up from. I don't care. I'm safe so long as he is close by. His soft curling hair brushes against my cheek and I can't stop my hand from touching those dark locks. It's like touching fresh spun silk. His gloved hand pushes my own hair back and he smiles down at me. I tremble under his touch and flick my eyes to the door. "You have nothing to fear my dear Connie." He whispers leaning close to talk to me. "Let's go!" cried a voice from the corridor. "Mordieux! Porthos has such timing as always. We're away my lady." He said arising and pulling me up with him. "D'Artagnan." "Lady?" "Please, lend me your knife." He gives me a frown at my request. "I have spent these hours of captivity longing for a blade. Should something happen I would have something to defend myself with." I explain. He nods and hands me a dirk. "Nothing will happen to you. That I promise." He said. "All the same." I said with the ghost of a smile. We leave the room and rush down the corridor and down a flight of steps. I follow, keeping the knife in my hand. Porthos follows behind me. A guard dressed in a black uniform turns his head and draws his sword at the sight of us. D'Artagnan is quicker by far and charges first. I hear their weapons clanging together and a sharp cry. Moments later we're passing the unconscious man and tumbling down some stairs into the street. There's a carriage waiting as promised and we're swept into it and away from that awful place. Once sat down, my legs begin to shake and unwanted tears flow down my face. D'Artagnan places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "You're safe now." He said. "You have nothing to fear anymore." "I know." I sob, my voice breaks and I bury my face in my hands. I let a couple of deep sobs shake through me and the knife I'd been clutching clattered on the bottom of the carriage. I look up, straight into his handsome face. He passes me a handkerchief and I wipe my tears away and give a weak smile. "I'm sorry." "Dear sweet Connie. Put these awful events behind you! You'll feel better when you're restored to your own apartments." He said taking my hand in his. "I hope too, that you will do me the honour of allowing me to call upon you." "I'd like that very much." He gives me one of those dashing smiles of his before he leans out the carriage window. A few words are exchanged between him and the driver before he turned back to me. "We're here." He said as the carriage clattered to a halt. He threw the door open and jumped out before offering me a hand in climbing down. I was so glad to be back on familiar ground again, the sight of the palace made my breath catch in my throat and I thought I might weep again. "Would you like me to escort you back?" "If it's not too much trouble." He bats off my response with the wave of his arm and takes me by the hand. The palace is quiet at this time of night and in a few heartbeats we are at my apartment. I open my door before turning to face my rescuer. "I can't thank you enough for your action today." I said. My face colours as I speak and he catches my hand in his once again. The gloves he wears are so soft to touch; I clasp them in my hands and stroke his fingers with my own. It's like new-born kitten fur. I bet the inside of the glove is just as divine. I can't help but wonder what D'Artagnan's hands would feel like touching my own like this without the glove in the way. I colour at the thought and pull my hand back. Such thoughts are not appropriate for people who have just met, yet I can't help my wondering mind. He places his hands on my shoulders and smiles down at me, "Where do your thoughts take you when you have such an expression on your face?" he asks. I flush a scarlet colour which I know will give me away, "Such a becoming colour fills your cheeks dear Connie." He pulls me forward then, pressing me against his hard chest. I push my arms out from under his cloak, returning his embrace. My legs begin to tremble, I've never been held this way by any one before. My stomach turns hollow inside and my poor heart is pounding so loud. "Connie, why do you shake so? Do you fear I would harm you?" "No. I know you wouldn't do that, not after rescuing me." I said looking up at him. His gloved hand brushes against my cheek and he looks at me in a way I don't quite understand. There's a fire in those blue eyes as he leans forward. The scent of him washes over me, the soft mint of his breath mingled with the smell of danger. His eyes search mine for a second and my knees start shaking again. His lips brush mine and a gasp escapes me. My heart stops beating when his tongue touches my lips. I grip his arms as I melt into him, my lips part on their own accord and I touch his tongue with my own. His hand pushes through my hair and rest on the back of my neck. I lean into his support and he deepens the kiss. The taste of him is like nothing I have ever tasted before, a divine mingling of spice, mint and something I can't place. I don't want to let him go. A cough breaks the kiss and we both look round down the corridor. Blood rushes to my face, we've been observed in what should be a private moment. "Aramis!" D'Artagnan said, his voice thick. He released me from his arms and I shift away from him and content myself with looking at the floor. "Don't mean to intrude but you're needed. Monsieur Treville has sent out a roll-call and we're already late." He explained, the look on his face is so apologetic I can't help but forgive him. D'Artagnan nods. "I have to go." He said turning to me. I nod, not trusting my voice to speak just yet. "I'll call on you soon." "I'd like that." I said. He took my hand and kissed it. "I promise." He added before he turned and walked away with his friend. I turn into my room and shut the door behind me. I can still feel the brush of his moustache on my lips where he'd kissed me. The taste of him was still on my lips too, which began to tingle when I thought of him. I undressed and lay on my bed for a moment, letting my heart calm itself down before shutting my eyes. I fell into a restful sleep, my dreams coloured by the blue uniform of my admirer. The Queens Maid Ch. 03 The following morning, I awoke in my own room, safe in my own bed. The sunlight streamed through the curtains and it promised to be a beautiful day. I arose and washed myself from head to toe. I couldn't stand the thought of the dust from the dirty room still clinging to my skin. Once I'm dry I clothe myself in my favourite blue dress. I tuck D'artagnan's knife into my belt and the handkerchief he gave me into my pouch. I'll keep it as a token for the time being. I give myself a final glance in the mirror before going to the Queen's rooms to present myself. I knock on her apartment door and enter the room. She looks up from her book and graces me with a smile. "Constance," she said. "Your Majesty." I replied with a curtsey. "Are you well?" "Yes. My thanks for sending someone to find me." "Who was it that took you?" She said, gesturing for me to enter the room and sit beside her. I took my place on a stool in front of her. "It was His Eminence Cardinal Richelieu." The look of shock on her face spoke volumes, "He was asking me about your letters." "And what did you tell him?" "I had no idea to their contents and I was only charged with taking them to the post master. I reinforced our loyalty to His Majesty and wished death upon his enemies." I explained, "He left me after that, I don't think he was done with me but the intervention of the Musketeers saved me further interrogation." "You've been very brave Constance." She said, "It must have been terrifying not knowing what was going to happen." "It was Majesty." "I can't guarantee it won't happen again either. Does it make you want to leave my service?" she asked, her soft brown eyes looked sad when she spoke. I thought for a moment about my ordeal and shook my head. "No. I do have a request to make of you though." "Oh?" she said raising her eyebrow. "I would like to carry a knife. It's something I would have been able to escape with if I'd had one on my person, twice." I said, "I'd also like to learn to use a sword." "Constance, how vulgar. You'd want to learn to kill people?" "Those people showed no worry about doing me harm when they took me, should I then show them some mercy just because I am a woman?" I said. "I'm not sure if I will consent to one of my ladies learning the sword but I'll meet you on the part of the knife, you may carry one for your protection if it will make you feel safer. Though with all the guards around I'm not sure why you feel the need." "I was taken from the palace by someone pretending to be a friend. It's only because D'Artagnan saw me that you knew I'd been taken." I said. "I think it prudent to carry my own protection in case this happens again." "Very well Constance, if you feel it necessary, you may carry a knife with you." She said. I smile, happy to be able to carry D'Artagnan's knife with me all the time. I would feel safer with it at my side. The Queen turned her attention back to Maria and I took my usual chair and picked up my wall hanging to work on. Lorraine had been working on her share in my absence and it was beginning to take good shape. I sat next to the open window and found my gaze shifting to the gardens more than my sewing. There are a group of young men practicing their sword play on the grass for a change and my eyes are drawn to them. The blue of their uniforms is easy to pick out in the sunshine and I wonder whether my Musketeer is there drilling with them. "Constance!" the queen snapped. "Sorry your Majesty." I said. "You're still suffering from your ordeal?" "No, I assure you I feel fine." "Then why so distracted?" I blush a scarlet colour when she asks the question, not wanting her to know of the newest feeling in my heart. She would laugh at my growing infatuation and I didn't want to be a joke, not even for the Queen of France. "See how she blushes!" Maria exclaimed at my reddening cheeks. "What have you been doing my pretty maid?" she asked. I flick my gaze out the window and Maria's gaze follows mine, "Have you been watching the king's men? How they fight and move around so animated?" she laughs a little and I turn my gaze to the floor. "Oh don't be embarrassed, it's only natural. I like looking at the handsome men too." "Maybe we should take a walk so we can get a closer look at them?" Anne suggested. I look up at her thought and a smile creeps its way onto my face. "Would you like that Constance?" "I would enjoy the fresh air." I said, "And the view of the men too." I add with a laugh. "Very well, you wanton girls, we'll go and have a walk and maybe I'll let you watch the young men for a moment or two." She said putting her work aside, "It's too nice to be cooped up inside while the suns shining anyway." It was the only excuse we needed, we packed up the sewing and the Queen led her ladies outside. We walked down the large avenues of trees onto the large ornamental lawn where the soldiers were practicing their sword play. As promised, the Queen allowed us all to take a seat on the grass and watch the men at work. It wasn't long until we were joined by His Majesty Louis XIII and his men. They took their seats alongside the Queen and her ladies, leaving us maids to watch the soldiers without distraction. They worked hard in their drilling and their movements were so alive and full of energy. D'Artagnan and his companions were not there with them and I soon lost interest in watching them. I wasn't disappointed for long though, the four of them came riding up on noble looking horses and dismounted when they saw the king' party. The four men joined us and D'Artagnan flopped down between me and Lorraine. "Are you well Mademoiselle's?" he said, picking up a glass and filling it with the watered wine we have been sharing. "Never better Monsieur." Lorraine said with a big smile on her face. "We're enjoying watching your comrades training while in this beautiful sunshine. Isn't that so Constance?" she said. I catch them both looking at me and the blood rushes to my cheeks, I'm going to have to stop blushing like this, and it's getting to be more than a bit embarrassing. "Forgive Constance, she's shy." "Oh you can't say the blush of her cheeks is unpleasant though." D'Artagnan said, "Have you recovered from your ordeal Mademoiselle?" he asked. "Why yes, thank you. I found myself much recovered upon reaching my apartments." I said with a smile. He returned my smile and gave me a sly wink. Lorraine narrowed her eyes at the gesture and looked at me through those narrow slits. "Good." He said, "Would you care for a walk? I find this lack of activity stifling on such a warm day." He said. "Nothing would please me more." Lorraine answered before I could say anything. I arise and beg our leave of the Queen. She grants us permission and I'm joined by the other two. D'Artagnan turns to Aramis before we leave and invites him to take the arm of Lorraine. His companion follows his lead and turns to my friend. We walk in companionable silence for a while; I can hear the chatter of Aramis and Lorraine behind us until that fades away. I look round and find we have wandered away from them. "Where are you taking me?" I ask, "They'll know we are up to something." "I had to see you." He replied, "I can't stop thinking about you." He added stopping walking and pulling me to a halt. "I've not had a moment's rest since that collision a month back." "I-" "You, my dear Connie." He said taking me in his arms again, "You have driven me to seek you out whenever I can, any moment snatched with you is worth whatever punishment they can throw at me." "W... When you speak to me in such a manner..." I said, my voice trembling as I talk, being around him, I'm powerless to resist, "Oh D'Artagnan, I'm so afraid." "What do you fear my Connie?" he asked. "I'm scared of what you do to me, what you make me feel, I want to be with you but I can't. I have nothing else to offer anyone and I must stay chaste, do you understand?" I said, trying to explain the reason I'd come to court in the first place. "I know but I can't bear to be without you. The weeks away after our first evening were so painful to endure." He said, his eyes glistened as he spoke, imploring me to listen to him. "I couldn't stop thinking about you; I want to be with you always." My lips collide with his then, I can't bare hearing about his anguish. I force my tongue into his mouth, pushing his lips apart and delving further than I had before. I clasp the side of his face with my open palm and he pulls me against him with a firm hand. He tilted his head to the left and I drove deeper into his open mouth. I want his hands on me, not gloved, not clasping my hand contritely in a corridor but on my bare flesh with no one to see us. His arm rests in the small of my back and he moans against my mouth as I massage his tongue with my own. He breaks the kiss, lingering on my lips for just a moment before turning his head. "Someone's coming." He whispered. "Why is there always someone coming." He's right of course; I can hear the sound of footsteps on the gravel path. D'Artagnan releases me from his arms and I take his hand again. We begin walking towards the lawn, away from the others. He led me onto the grass, "I should go back." I said, not really wanting to but I had a duty to perform, just like he did. "We've been away no more than ten minutes; we have all afternoon should we wish it." He protested. "...If you're sure we won't be missed." "The Queen has her other ladies and the King has my two friends as well as his other guards. They won't lament us walking on such a fair day, and you're more than just a maid as you'd have me believe." He said leading me away from the little picnic. "I am?" "Yes Mademoiselle. You're the Queen's confidant and I'd go as far as to say her friend. She won't mind your absence after your latest ordeal either." He explained. "I have something to ask of you." I said, my palms were damp all of a sudden and my breath caught in my throat. "If it's not too much trouble of course." He turned and caught me in his arms and spun me about. I squealed as he whirled me around and embraced me. "Nothing is too much trouble coming from you. Ask me." He said "I want you to teach me to fight." I said, looking him straight in the eyes so he knows I'm not joking. He gives me a soft smile and kisses the end of my nose, "I'm serious." "Dearest Connie, why would you need to learn to fight? I'm right here to protect you." He said. "What about when you're away on campaign D'Artagnan?" I said, "I'd feel better for it." "And what does Her Majesty say about this?" he asked "She doesn't approve, she said it was vulgar that I should want to defend myself." "And you'd disobey her?" "No one would ever think to kidnap the Queen of France; a little confidant however, is a different matter. It won't hurt anyone and it'll make me feel safer." I explained. "We'd get to spend some time together as well, and no one would be able to question why either" "And when do you propose we have these secret lessons?" he asked raising a graceful eyebrow. "You don't want her Majesty finding out your disobeying her wishes." He said pulling me close and nuzzling my neck. I shivered as his moustache brushed against my bare skin and he kissed just below my ear. I gasped as he took my earlobe between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. "I was thinking under cover of darkness, I don't attend the Queen every night so on my nights off maybe you could teach me." I said. His hat brim brushed against my cheek so I took it in my hand and removed it, his soft hair tumbled into my face and I drank in the scent as it moved. He dragged his tongue in one long movement to the base of my neck, my breath caught in my throat; his every caress sent new shivers through me. "Very well. I'll train you to use a sword." He whispered, "And it shall be as you wish, under the cover of night, where no one will know of our secret." "Our?" "Of course, these late night trysts, and so they'll be, will involve both of us. I will not be the one to betray such a trust," he said, raising his hand to my face and turning to look at me. He placed his lips on mine before letting me escape his embrace. "Now, we should get back; else so help me I won't be able to stop myself should we start again." A wave of cold fills the space where he's been pressed against me but his warm smile did a little to fill the void. He took my hand and we walked back to the picnic. I hand his hat to him and he fixes it back on his head before we approach everyone. Lorraine and Aramis are back already, deep in conversation, Maria gives us a sly look but says nothing. D'Artagnan sits down and pulls me down next to him. I can feel his thigh pressing against mine and my heart pounds, I want to kiss him again, pick up where we left off but with everyone here it would be inappropriate. "D'Artagnan!" Athos shouts. He turns his handsome face away from me and nods to his friend. "We need to be going." "Yes. Indeed," he nods. "Aramis, let's go." Aramis nods to Lorraine and arises, D'Artagnan clasps my hand in his before he too stands up. Porthos follows and the four men take their leave. I watch them go until they are out of sight before turning back to Lorraine. She grins at me and we turn our attention to the Queen, she's deep in conversation with some of her other ladies so we're left to our own devices. "I saw you," she whispered. "What?" "I saw you and D'Artagnan together." "You won't tell will you?" I asked, I didn't want anyone to know, if word got back to my father he'd come and take me away from here and my new found freedom. I couldn't bear the thought of that. He would definitely not approve of the current developments in my life. "Your secret is safe with me." She said, "If mine is with you." "Of course." I nod, she and Aramis must have got on well together, there's a discreet flush about her cheeks and she's smiling more than usual. "Come on Ladies," Anne said, turning her attention back to us all, "We should retire to our rooms and prepare for the evening." She arose from the blanket and we all did the same. The King had already retired and the Queen led us back to her apartments. She dismissed us, preferring to have some of the other girls attend her. I returned to my own rooms and thought of the day just passed. The afternoon wasn't that late and I was off this evening. I pulled a book from my shelf and sat down on my little chair. It's been a wonderful day. The Queens Maid Ch. 04 The evening descended, finding me still nose deep into the book I was reading, the light had faded but I had lit a candle on my table. I wasn't hungry but one of the serving girls, noting my absence, had brought me a little tray of food. I'd eaten an apple and drank a little of the watered wine but was content to read rather than eat. The evening was cool and a mild breeze stirred my curtains, flickering my little candle. I arose and place a guard over it before picking up the volume again. The sun disappeared behind the horizon and the night deepened. There was a tapping on my window pane and I looked up, "Good evening my lady." "D'Artagnan." I said with a smile. He passed me a pile of cloth and a sword as well. "What's all this for?" I said. "Do you think I can teach you to fight in a ladies gown?" he said leaning on the window sill, "You're beautiful in your gowns, don't get me wrong, but you can't fight surrounded by all that cloth." I put the pile down on my bed and pick up one of the blue garments. D'Artagnan has managed to pilfer me an actual musketeer uniform. "You want me to change?" "Do you want to learn to fight?" "Well... Go over there." I said pointing to some trees near my window. "I don't want you watching me change." Once I'm sure he's not by the window anymore I take the uniform and struggle out of my dress. I change my corset too, this one is a little tighter than some of my others and if I need to be able to move, a better fitting one would be of more use. The uniform he'd presented me with was just like what the other men in training wore. I had no real idea how to wear men's clothes however so decided to improvise. The pants were simple enough, being the kind if affair that ended with lace trim at the knees. I kept my own stockings on and pulled on an old pair of shoes I'd not got rid of. The white shirt is a couple of sizes too big and I feel huge when I pull on the blue waist coat which goes over it. I put the tabard over my head and fix it in place with the leather belt from the pile of trappings. I leave the sword on my bed for a moment and look at myself in the full length mirror. I pull my long hair back into a tail and smile at myself. I don't recognise myself dressed like this but I do like wearing the king's livery. The pants are so soft against my skin; they're made from a durable material and I don't know how something that appears so rough can feel so smooth. Then there are the gloves. These ones fit perfectly. My fingers reach right to the end and the cuffs sit right on my wrists like they're supposed to. I had no idea they made them this small, if I'd have known I would have begged a pair sooner. The inside is lined with soft fur and the outer leather, which has caressed my skin most often of late, is as supple as I remember. I climbed out of the window and dropped to the floor with my sword in hand. I was about to buckle it round my waist when hands circle me from behind. "And I never thought you could look any more beautiful." He whispers. He embraces me for another moment; he's so close I can breathe him in. Then he's gone and walking around me. He takes my hand and leads me over the grass into a secluded part of the gardens. He stands opposite me and places his hands on his hips. "What do you know about sword fighting then Connie?" he asked. "Nothing." I reply, "I've watched the young musketeers practicing but that's it." "All right, well, the sword I've given you is a little shorter than mine, owing to the fact you're a bit smaller than I, it's also lighter, but that means you'll be faster than your opponents too." He explained. He drew it from the scabbard to show it to me. The blade was fine, like he said and he slashed it through the air a couple of times before handing the hilt to me. It had an ornate handle like his did and felt good in my hand. "Hold it like this," he said. He moved to stand behind me and held my arm with his. "With your feet like this." He nudged my feet into a stance just like his, "You need to be loose when you're getting ready to fight, if you tense up, your body won't be ready when someone comes at you." He explained. "This sword has a sharpened edge and point so it's suitable for thrusting and cutting." He moved away from me then and I let my arm fall to my side, "Keep your arm raised Connie." I do as he asks and put myself back into the position he'd shown me. "The sword is light but you need strong arms and wrists to manage it. I'll show you how to move." He said standing beside me and performing the action so I could see. "Show me again." I said, watching again as he moved. This time I copied his movements and he nodded. "You understand these are the basics of course, it will take me some time to show you everything," he said. "I know." I replied, "It's going to take a bit of getting used to as well, I never thought, not for a moment, that I would be learning to fight when I came to court. I've never done anything like this before." "Keep moving dear, we can talk and walk." He said. I nod and concentrate on my feet for a moment. He stays a good few yards away from me, watching my movements as we head down the lawn. My arm is beginning to ache, even though the weapon isn't that heavy. I've never had to hold it out like this before and I can feel the muscles beginning to strain. It's going to be sore in the morning. We reached the edge of the lawn, down by the little river running through the grounds and I stop, letting my sword arm drop. I sheathe the blade and smile. "I'm going to need a bit of practice at that." "It won't be easy but you'll pick it up. Don't stop there, draw your weapon and keep going." He said, I can just about make out the encouragement written on his face. I do as he asks and make my way back up the lawn. A couple more lengths and I'm done. I flop down on the bank of the river and let out a sigh. D'Artagnan sat next to me and took my hand in his, "Not bad for a first day." He said. I lie back on the cool grass and look up at the sky; the sliver of moon is surrounded by a thick clouds. He drops my hand and leans over me, his weight resting on his elbow. "You're so beautiful Connie." He said, stroking my cheek with a gloved hand. I take his hand in my own and raise his fingers to my lips. "Thank you for teaching me tonight." I could make out his handsome face in the moonlight and the soft tumbling of his hair brushed my face. "Connie..." his voice trails off and I pull my glove off with my teeth. I remove his hat and push my hand through those dark locks. His scent fills me and I drink in the sight of the man who was fast becoming my love. His nose brushes against mine and he winks. He pulls away from me and removed his own glove. He placed it beside my head and pulled the other one off in a swift movement. A smile creeps its way onto my lips as I watch those hands. I want to seize them in my own and touch them. I want to know how they feel in my own. I want... He touches his finger to my lips and drags it along, tracing the outline in one slow movement. He closes the gap between us and he removes his finger, replacing it with his tongue, I open my mouth and gasp, each tiny movement he makes sends a new tingle down my spine. I moan and try to catch him with a kiss but he pulls back and smirks at me instead. I lick where his tongue has been and his taste lingers on my skin. I want him so much. "I-" He silenced me with his mouth, pushing his tongue into me and probing my own, his hand caressed the side of my face and came to rest on the base of my neck. His lips were soft, his moustache tickled as he kissed me but I didn't care. I put my hand on the back of his neck and invite him to deepen the embrace. An empty sensation hollows the pit of my stomach and I yearn for him to fill it. D'artagnan pulls back and just looks at my face. "Don't stop." I whisper, my voice is so quiet, I can just hear it. "My Connie. I want you so much," he said, his voice is thick and I realise he's shaking as much as I am. It occurs to me then that maybe he's as new to this as I am. It can't be, he's been so sure of himself, so gentle with me these few days I refuse to believe that. "What?" I ask, a frown glimmering across my face. "I know why you're at court; I can't take from you that which I have no right to." He whispered. I take a deep breath and grabbing hold of his belt, I pull him to me. "D'Artagnan," I said, kissing him gently on the cheek. He draws me up into his arms and holds me tight, "There's nothing to fear." It's a strange reversal of roles, me saying this to him. His mouth covers mine and I moan at the renewed assault on my lips. This time, it really does feel like an assault. The heat coming from his mouth and into mine is so fierce I fear it will burn me up. His knee nudges between mine and the full force of his desire presses against my thigh. I push my tongue into his mouth, wanting to savour his taste. He laid me back down again and his hand slips down my neck and onto my chest. I shiver as he cups my breast through the fabric of the stolen uniform and he moans against my mouth. I want to touch him too but don't know where to start. I simply embrace him, wrapping my hands around his waist and arching my back so I feel the full length of his body pressing against mine. His shape fits mine despite him being much taller than me. I break the kiss and move my mouth to the side of his neck, taking the skin between my teeth and nibbling around to his throat. He gasps and holds the back of my head with a steady hand. I bite the apple of his throat and the moan that escapes him could only be a pleasurable one. He breaks away from me then and arises from the grassy bank, a huge rain drop hits the centre of my head, looks like the clouds are providing us with a wet harvest. "Dearest Connie, if we're to do this, we'll have to find somewhere to go." He said picking up the discarded gloves and his hat. I push myself up and take him by the hand. I can feel callouses on his palm, formed by his training but at least his hand is no longer protected by the gloves. The rain lashes down around us and by the time we reach my window we're both soaked through. I climb in and turn to him before allowing him inside. "We must be quiet." I whispered, "If the Queen or anyone hears us..." he nods and follows me in to the room. He drops the gloves and his hat onto my table. We're both dripping puddles onto the floor and he gives me a smile. I can feel the fabric of the uniform beginning to chafe against my skin and I shiver. I take off the sodden tabard and waist coat until I'm standing in the damp shirt and pants. D'Artagnan follows my example and I sit back and watch him peel off the rain drenched material. The shirt he has on is almost sheer and I can see the well-defined muscles of a warrior echoed through the fabric. I cross the room and stand in front of him, I take a deep breath, willing my pounding heart to stop thumping, and reach up to touch his shoulders, the part where they join the neck. The muscle there is solid and I squeeze the muscles between my thumb and fingers. He shuts his eyes and a smile creeps onto his face. I drag my fingers down his chest, probing the muscles with my fingertips. I give his right nipple a squeeze through the wet fabric and the sharp intake of breath tells me this is a good thing. I linger there a moment, teasing the nub until I could see it through the fabric. Then I let my hands continue exploring the avenues of his body. His skin is soft underneath the wet shirt and I push my hands up, letting my warm hands explore his cool flesh. I stop at the patch of hair underneath his navel and he cups my chin in his hand. Angling my face up towards him, he kisses me with such tenderness I could weep. "You've never touched a man before?" he said, his voice low in my ear. I shake my head and move my hands around his back, walking them round slowly, so I could savour the feel of his flesh under my fingers. I stop at the waist of his pants, not sure if it's all right to go further, yet not wanting to stop. The exploration has done something wonderful to me as well, I can feel my own pulse between my legs and I ache there too. He pulled the wet shirt over his head and dropped it onto the pile of other wet clothing. He then lifts my shirt over my head to reveal my chemise and corset. I slip my hand below the waist of his pants and begin working at the buttons that held them up. I managed to work them open and when they fell to the floor, he stepped out of them. He began kissing my neck and the ache between my legs deepened. He worked at my own pants and I leave them behind on the floor. D'Artagnan guides me to the bed and lays me down. He stands back and I get a good look at him. He casts an impressive sight standing there almost naked. My eyes are drawn to the swelling at the front of his white shorts and I can't help blush. He follows my eyes and smirks at me with a mild shrug. "You see what your touch does?" I beckon him over and he lies beside me on the bed, turning to face me he runs a hand down my side and stops at my hip. "Now, it's my turn to explore your delights." He whispered. His hand then pushes me on to my back and works up my stomach, unclipping the fastenings of my corset as he goes. He removes the garment and places it on the floor beside my bed. I can't help feeling a bit exposed in just my chemise but a reassuring hand is placed on my stomach and I manage a small smile. He covers my breast with his hand and probes my nipple with his thumb, the lightening that flashes through me seems to have a direct connection with my sex and oddly enough, my teeth. It is so good it hurts and I whimper as he caresses me. His other hand trickles up my thigh and pauses just before it reaches my centre. He stops and looks me in the eyes, searching for something, I give a nod and he pushes his hand through my thatch and brings it to rest on my quivering lips. He leans down and kisses me, full on the mouth then. I try to coax his tongue into my mouth but he pulls away. His fingers part my lower lips and he slides one in between them. He gasps at the discovery and smiles, "Connie... you're so wet," I bite my lip and smile at him. He moves his hand to the north of my sex and pressed down with his thumb. I almost squeal, the fire that shot through me was like nothing I'd ever felt before. He moves his thumb in the smallest circular motion; the sensations rip through me like wild fire. I fear it will burn me up at the pace it moves. I twitch away from his hand which he leaves hovering over me. He kissed my neck and smiled before pulling away from me. He moves so he's knelt between my legs and he looks down at my body. I can't help grin at him; he rubs his hand up my thigh again and returns his hand to my pussy. He slides one of those delightful fingers inside me and rests it there for a moment. D'Artagnan looks me in the eye as he slides another finger into me. It's not uncomfortable but it is strange. I feel him wiggling his fingers and then it's not strange any more. I release a low moan and let my head fall back on the pillows. He withdrew his fingers and left a hollow feeling where they'd been. He shifted out of his whites then before he teasing my legs apart, "This may hurt my love." He whispered, leaning over me. His cock pressed at the entrance of my wet pussy and he rested a hand under my hips. He eased forward and the empty place he'd left was filled again. He placed his mouth over mine before pushing further. A sharp explosion erupted and I let out a cry, muffled by his mouth on mine. I close my eyes and a tear slid down my cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb and kissed my face. Neither of us moved for a long moment. I willed myself to relax and as I did so, the pain seemed to melt away, replaced my something much better. He pulled his hips back and I hissed, I wrapped my arms around his waist and he thrust forward again. It took several strokes before I relaxed into him but once I had, wonderful things began happening. I raised my hips to meet him and something began to build inside me. I let out a whimper and he nuzzled my neck, nipping the flesh. I gasped as he quickened his pace. He leaned back, taking a nipple between his teeth. His cock drove deeper within me, I fell, only to rise again on a wave and fall back. I grip his shoulders with my nails, my breath coming in short pants. The slick wetness slithers down my thighs and he jerks within me. His face screws up, thrusts his tongue into my open mouth, forcing its attention onto my own. Slivers of fire and ice pierce my thoughts, I wrap my legs around his waist, every muscle clenching around him. We shudder in unison, then his weight bears down on me and he supports himself with his arms. I drag in a breath, then another, every part of me seems to be shaking. I open my eyes and see D'Artagnan smiling down at me. He recedes from me body and lies beside me, holding me against his naked form. I don't know if I can move just yet but I put my arm over his and let him hold me. His hand brushes my hair from my neck and he kisses my forehead. "My Connie." He whispered. I roll over to face him and lay a kiss on his cheek. I pull the blankets over us and snuggle into his body. I could stay like it forever. Waves of warmth flow through me and my eyes grow heavy. His lips brush my forehead again and he holds me close for a long moment. "I can't stay here." He said kissing me again. "I know." I said, squeezing his arm, "Just stay a moment." My eyes close and he holds me for a while. When he moves again I'm almost asleep. "I'll take my leave of you for now my dear." He whispered, placing his lips on my cheek. I murmur and give a small nod, then the warmth of him is gone. I hear him dress and then climb out the window. I can still smell his scent on the pillow as I slip into the realm of sleep. The Queen's Marble Cock The day had been long & I began to nod on the couch with the History Channel on the TV. A documentary was on about the underworld of the Roman Coliseum. The narrator's voice played easily through my head. In that gauzy state that was not quite asleep or awake, I thought of my boyfriend of five months, Jeremy. He would've made one hell of a gladiator. Six foot three and strapping with a shaved head and goatee, I imagined his arms burnished by Rome's sun and sculpted to impossible dimension by hours of sword fighting. The narrator continued to tell me of hidden annals, secret ramps and forgotten tunnels belonging to the underworld city beneath the famed arena. I drifted further into fantasy about Jeremy in leather and breastplates. He is mine, was a gift from my cousin who felt I needed to take more interest in the bloodthirsty battles of the Coliseum. He felt if I had my own fighter, my own gladiator plaything, that I'd have a stake in what went on inside those curved and wizened walls. The particulars of such tournaments were largely uninteresting to me. I had always been a queer sort of a girl who had grown into an enigmatic and twisted woman. Not that I was queried on my eccentricities. I was russet haired, blue eyed and fetching. Furthermore, I was Queen. The Emperor had no regard for my notions of entertainment any more than I did for his. But marriages of our kind were for land and dowries, nothing more. However it wouldn't do for me to doze at his elbow whilst lions tore through human flesh on the dusty arena floor, hence my cousin's intercedence. A gift this gladiator was, and my mind's eye filled Jeremy into the role. He is mine. His name is Tiberius. He's managed to stay alive through enough tournaments to matter--quick when he needed to be, stronger than many, clever with a flair that appealed to me. Jeremy/Tiberius was larger than life it seemed. I never could ignore someone with such presence. Not that I could appear affected in any way when his eyes grabbed at mine, but from the moment he was presented to me with a thick chain encircling his neck, my imagination roiled with my trademark naughtiness. "My Queen," Tiberius said from his knees. "I dedicate every battle forward to your Highness. Each move I make will be a tribute. May the Gods see fit for me to fight with more heart than I knew I possessed." Shielding my besotted intake of breath with a fan waved at my throat, I replied, "You were a gift. Gifts of this kind I've not before received. As the first of your kind, I trust you'll make me proud." Those were the only words I trusted myself to speak. Under the guise of impatience I had him shown away, back to the slave quarters where he stayed. But I had plans for him. Let him show me his best; I would test limits that man never dreamed existed. ++++++++++++++++++++++ Tiberius. I caressed his name in my mouth before every tournament, preparing myself with a new enthusiasm for the coming exhibition. Fight for me he did. He ran swords through opponents as if they were water. The wild animals staked down to devour the unlucky never got a taste of Tiberius' blood. He was too sharp, his loins so strong. His loins. His loins and legs captured much of my attention. I felt a flush grow in my cheeks the harder he battled. My cousin was thrilled with the rapt attention I gave the action happening below our decorated seats. "See?" I overheard him telling the Emperor. "All Her Highness needed was a warrior of her own." But I had not yet begun the battle of will with my warrior. That came later, not long, as a month was the most I could hold back. Normally my own eagerness would have shamed me. However this was not the circumstance for that. When I made my way beneath the wending Coliseum tunnels, I carried with me a small wooden chest. It was outfitted with brass locks to keep out nosy handmaidens. The keys I kept in my bosom for dramatic effect; once I came upon my Tiberius it was my scene of sorts, far different than those he experienced on the arena floor. Slaves' quarters were not the most comfortable place for me to be. I had visited before for similar reasons but none of these currently imprisoned would remember me. Those witnesses were all dead to battle. It wasn't often I prowled the underworld here and if the world went as the world went, days separated these witnesses from the sight of me sweeping through the corridors until their demise. Death was everywhere in the Coliseum. But my Tiberius, he was here too. I had to find him. Pitiful to see him in his element. I so badly wished to take him away and keep him ensconced somewhere more fitting. Perhaps the world would allow time for that. For now, I hiss his name through the bars and watch his face leave the skimpy fire that had been warming him. "My Highness," he said. The proprietary nature of his address did not escape me, rather it pleased me to know he felt us on slightly different ground than the typical royalty/slave arrangement. "Yes, your Highness. MY Tiberius." "Whatever are you doing here? Do I have a special assignment?" "As a matter of fact, that is exactly why I am here." I produced the keys from my bosom and his eyes followed my hands. The dirt on his face from the day is highlighted in the dusky glow of his fire. I feel a familiar excitement begin at my core and tremble as I unlock his cage. "Highness, I..." "Ssshh." "...wish only to serve you." This I knew. I was sure in the way he held my imperious gaze during victory, how he turned his body towards my decorated seat in the crowd as entered the arena to fight. From the moment the tournament started and indeed, far before, Tiberius was concentrated solely on me. "Serve me you shall," I said softly, taking hold of his neck chain and leading him through a warren of tunnels to a place I know is private. A little scary, but all ours. "They keep the animals here," Tiberius. said, with more than a little trepidation in his voice. "I know this. They're secured, Tiberius. they can't hurt us." I turn to him and press him against a convenient outcropping of rock. "They just watch. Hold out your hands." Tiberius obeyed, and I placed the small trunk I'd been carrying into his waiting palms. I took the opportunity to stroke his large, strong hands as he held the precious case. I couldn't control myself from running my touch up his forearms to his biceps. The intensity of my core heat grew. The cords in his neck. His shaved dome. I touched him everywhere it pleased me as he obediently held onto the trunk with tight fingers. "Highness..." "Why do you always speak?" "I am overwhelmed. I can't help it." The deadly animals snored and groaned in the general vicinity as Tiberius' widened eyes found mine. "What is my fate here?" "Of course you wouldn't understand," I replied. "So few do. I take it you've heard no rumors." "None, my Queen." I unlocked the trunk case and lifted the lid. The interior was lined with burgundy silk and I deftly moved the folds aside. Tilt the case so he can look inside. It takes a few moments but he runs his stare over my bosom, my hair, my face where the answers can be found. "I ask again, what is my fate here?" "You are going to take one of these," I said, removing one of six marble crafted cocks from the case. "It doesn't matter which one. But you will take one, for your Queen, and furthermore, for your owner." Tiberius sifted a chuckle through his throat which indicated he was not in complete agreement with this task I'd set before him. My voice sharpened. "Indeed, for your owner, to whom you swore your service. Your Queen, whom you claim to adore. This is not such a very difficult thing, Tiberius. You'd be surprised what one can get used to under certain circumstances. I thought you'd be intelligent enough to grasp that." At that moment a tiger growled. Tiberius twitched and I could tell he hated himself for it. "Come now," I wheedled. "You can't believe I'm not aware of the lust and buggery that threads through these quarters. Anywhere you get a bunch of... driven... men together, things are going to happen." I paused. "I've watched." "I fear you know too much for your years, Highness." "Fear nothing I offer you, Tiberius. It's when I stop offering that you need to worry." Again I tilted the contents of the box towards him so he could see. I had all night if that's what it would take. But I wasn't leaving being anything but the victor. His formidable, unruly brows that protected his eyes from the sun arched as he examined the choices presented to him. The chain subtly rattled as he moved to touch the cocks I'd spent years collecting. He weighed, parsimoniously examining the offerings. My heat was almost too much to contain. "I'll take such good care of you, Tiberius." I said without shame. "I would never hurt you more than you could bear, You're a strong warrior. You can do this for me." At last he sighed and laid to rest the last marble masterpiece. "I am yours, Highness. The decision is yours, and I am but your willing gladiator." Tossing my hair aside, I began unhooking the bodice of the dress I'd worn to the slave quarters. It dropped to the dirt floor. Underneath I wore a corset specially outfitted with an aperture to accommodate any cock I owned. In this manner I could fit myself with a marble toy and take my prisoner like my Emperor could take begging castle laundrywomen, as was his wont. A block of grease in a separate compartment of the trunk helped expedite my deed. My only question was if I wanted to see his face or enter him from behind. My decision wavered towards the latter. I had admired his rock hard loins and powerful legs from the first, so now I kiss his dirty face in a treasured circle, not ignoring his shaved dome. "Turn around, my beloved warrior." With a sigh he turns towards the outcropping of rock and finds a place there for his elbows. Just like the good gladiators before him. I choose the cock I will use, cooing my encouragement and greasing it for Tiberius. I don't wish to hurt him. I wish to possess him in a fashion my cousin could only suspect. Moving aside the leather flaps of his skirt caused me great excitement. His fine, high riding ass taunted me in the bare firelight kept burning in the wall sconces of the animal pit. I grease the fold between his cheeks. I offer my fingers first, and hear him groan. "Your groan is a tribute, Tiberius," I tell him. "You instinctively know so much about pleasing your Highness." My cock was in place. Tiberius was ready to be trained. There is no comparable feeling to bearing into a submissive. Resistance is natural but can be overcome. I am a woman of great patience and strength of mind. Tiberius gasps with the undertone of an injured boy and I understand his communique. He is experiencing nothing like anything given to him before. He will remember me for the rest of his life. Deeper now. I have not yet begun the withdraw. I stroke his perfect ass and grab onto the strongest part of his thighs to draw myself closer. "My beloved," I murmur, not caring if he hears me. Let the lions and wild cats hear me. It is true. Tiberius is mine, and we are in a beautiful place together. We begin to rock. He pants with the effort of taking my marble cock to a steady rhythm, and I do not rush him. This is our communion, no time for a hurried coupling. "Please," he begs me. "What do you beg me for, my pet?" "Please, your Highness, more." I give. The thrill of giving stimulates me in ways I am rarely treated to, and I begin to feel a zenith rising in me. "Touch yourself, Tiberius." I hiss in a voice barely recognizable as my own. My thrusting accentuates every other word. "You will leave your tribute on the stone wall as is fitting. Do you understand?" "Oh Yes, my goddess." "But not yet." Sweat stands out on my forehead and pricks my armpits as I take him. "I will be ready soon." And then it comes. The burgeoning golden well inside of me crescendos, and I ride it out with more than a little noise. But it's lost in this underground chamber. I fear no interruption or alarm. Only my Tiberius can truly hear it, truly appreciate it. Turning him to face me, I bear into him anew. "I command you now, warrior," I said. "Show me your devotion." It was not on the stone wall that he left his tribute, but I allow for such improvisation. I ached to see his face. Contorted in superhuman passion, he stroked his fine cock until it jets copious along his chest. It hits his mouth and he reflexively spits it out. I slap him and kiss the remaining liquid from his lips. "You do not waste in my underworld," I said, biting his full lower lip for effect and cleaning the moisture from his goatee. "And how do you love your Highness now?" "My Queen, I am ever devoted." Tiberius catches his breath and continues. "I wish to be the one you turn to when these urges overtake you." "So you shall be." Tiberius is returned to his quarters, but over time I devise a much better plan for my gladiator plaything. I convince my cousin to graduate him from the rough tumbles in the arena to be my personal bodyguard which requires a much closer occupation of my space. He's given a hidey-hole in the annals of the castle with a door that locks tight. The Emperor hardly cares. He carries on as I carry on, and our exceedingly civil marriage continues for the benefit of the masses. And Tiberius proves to be a trooper. He tries every marble cock I have. Eventually. Back in wakefulness, I cannot erase the gladiator fantasy from my mind. I attempt to tell Jeremy about it but can't seem to convey the meat of the eroticism I dreamt up while in that hazy state with the History Channel droning in the background, feeding my fantasy. I decide the only way to make it real is to visit a year-round costume shop in his neighborhood. I inquire about breastplates, Spartan hats, shields and such. They have a marvelous sectioned leather skirt that closely matched the one I parted to see Tiberius' high riding ass as I fucked him. It took my breath away. "It's not Halloween," he says to me, examining gauntlets and shin guards and chain metal. "Does it have to be?" I replied. No, it never has to be. And I've seen some gorgeous glass dildos on the market that could easily substitute for marble....