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Lovers' Veil

By: Scott_Harper



Chapter 1

Prince Leofrick Wykeham kept a lose grip on his yew longbow as he stepped cautiously. Silence was the order of the moment, though no trace of any game had been found for hours.

Bryce Cartwright is a good man. But he's too overbearing. And too loyal to Father and Mother. Why couldn't they have assigned me a personal guard who was more fun?

Leofrick knew that Bryce was nearby, with the rest of the hunting party. The slightest sound might alert the older man of his presence and bring him. Doing his utmost to keep Leofrick is sight at all times was one of Bryce's more annoying qualities. He had been aghast at Leofrick's suggestion that they split up on the hunt. Leofrick had managed to give him the slip, but knew his freedom would be short-lived.

He's a good man, loyal to the throne, brave and intelligent. But why must he be so narrow-minded and overbearing? Father and Mother assigned him to me as a guard, not a nursemaid!

The harmonious strands of song gradually worked their way into Leofrick's conscious. He stopped, stunned by the beauty of the sweet music, wondering how long he had actually been hearing it. After several long moments, he crept forward once more, taking great care that his soft leather boots made no noise, stepping over fallen twigs.

Pushing ahead, deeper into the shadow-dappled depths of Knavesmire Woods, Leofrick listened as the singing grew steadily louder. It washed over him like smooth silk, wrapping him in its soft, enticing folds, caressing him gently, drawing him on. It was a woman's voice, raised in a dulcet lyric. Her voice held an accent which Leofrick was unfamiliar with. He found the voice exotic and alluring. Without even having seen the mistress of the song, Leofrick found himself falling under her spell, bewitched by her imagined loveliness.

Leofrick followed the mellow refrains until he found himself at the edge of a clearing. The voice was louder now, its source close. In slow motion, the prince reached out a hand and drew back a leafy branch, peering through the gap it opened. His breath caught at the sight before him.

A narrow stream wended its way through the clearing, its water clear and clean. Standing in the middle of the watercourse was the most dazzlingly beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was small and trim, petite and delicate. Her waist-length blonde hair, darkened from moisture, hung down, the only thing covering her otherwise bare, pale flesh. The seemingly insubstantial woman was singing, her voice raised in clear, euphonious tones.

Unable to take his eyes from the beautiful sight before him, scarcely able to breathe, he settled in, watching the delicate woman bathe.

She cupped her hands in the water and washed her pale skin over and over. Her smooth, flawless flesh glistened in the afternoon sunlight. No hair marred her skin below her eyebrows. Leofrick found he couldn't decide which feature he found the most attractive - her youthful face with its innocent, wide-eyed expression, her tiny breasts with their rosy pink nipples, or her bare, smooth pubis.

As he watched her, Leofrick was aware that his own body was reacting to the sight of hers. His cock grew hard and hot within the tight confines of his pants. His breathing grew quicker. In his mind, he had the gorgeous young woman on his bed and was perched between her lithe, willowy legs, making sweet love to her. In his fantasy, her eyes were locked with his own as she made soft sounds of blissful pleasure with each thrust of his thick shaft into her tight, hot canal.

Long minutes passed by and still Leofrick remained hidden, watching the young woman, listening to her song. She seemed in no hurry and bathed over and over again, taking her time, gently washing her pale, smooth skin and long blonde hair again and again. All the while, her song never wavered. Her voice wrapped around the prince, holding him as fast as the sight of her naked beauty.

"Prince! There you are!" Bryce's voice called loudly from several yards behind.

Leofrick winced. At the same instant, the young woman spun, her gaze locking onto him, her song ending. A look of shocked, abject horror twisting her features into a mask. She froze, eyes panicked, for only a moment before turning away. She spun so quickly that her long blonde hair whipped through the air behind her, arcing around, slinging water. She began scrambling up the far bank of the stream.

Leofrick glanced in the direction of Bryce's voice, loath to take his eyes off the mind-searingly lovely woman even for an instant. Bryce was approaching him quickly, noisily. The large man was waving a hand at him.

"Prince, why did you go off alone? You know how many travelers have vanished in Knavesmire Woods over the years! It isn't safe out here alone!"

Ignoring him, Leofrick turned back, wanting to catch a final glimpse of the young woman. She had made it up the far bank already and, still fully nude, was racing toward the far side of the clearing. As he watched, she faded from view and was gone.

Leofrick flinched in shock, blinking, trying to focus on the place where the woman had been.

"Leofrick!"

The prince waved his guard to silence and rose, pushing into the clearing. He went quickly to the stream, staring at the place where the woman had stood. Not caring about damage to his leather boots or elegant hunting pants, Leofrick slid down the bank and waded into the watercourse.

"Prince!"

He paused only long enough to glance back at Bryce. "Give me a minute, will you?"

Turning back, Leofrick forded the stream and looked at the other bank. To his amazement, there was no sign of the young woman's passage. Puzzled, he climbed up and followed her course toward the tree line, his gaze on the ground.

Nothing. But that isn't possible! She couldn't have just vanished. She's here, hiding in the brush or behind a tree. She must be...

Disturbed by the lack of any bent grass or footprints, he turned his full attention to the deeper woods before him, casting about for some small sign of the woman's presence or passage. He saw nothing.

"Hello? Are you still there? I'm sorry to have frightened you! I'm sorry to have spied upon you, too. I heard you singing and..."

He let his words trail off as the realization that he was not going to get an answer slowly sank in.

"My Prince?" Bryce called from the far side of the stream. "To whom are you speaking?"

Unexpected anger flaring in him, Leofrick spun quickly, spearing Bryce Cartwright with a look. "You shouldn't have shouted! You scared her away!"

Frustrated, longing for one more look at the lovely woman, Leofrick started back to Bryce.

"I'm sorry, my Prince. I was concerned for your safety when I found that you'd left us. And...whom did I frighten off? I saw no one." The red beard around his mouth sagged as he frowned and his brow furrowed with uncertainty above hesitant eyes.

Leofrick paused, staring at Bryce. "You didn't see-? No, you shouted before you were close enough to see her. By the gods, Bryce, she was the brightest vision of beauty! Gorgeous beyond anything I'd ever imagined to be possible. Her voice alone is something men would kill to experience just once in their miserable lifetimes."

"Her voice? You spoke to her, then?"

"No. She was singing. You must've heard her."

"I heard nothing."

Leofrick stared at his personal guard. "You must have."

"I apologize, but I did not. I had picked up your trail through the woods and followed it. I saw you crouching there, staring into the clearing. I saw no one else and heard nothing."

Leofrick watched him for long moments before sighing and leading the way back toward the others. "Bryce...my friend...take it from me when I say that you can't know what you missed because you've never in your life experienced anything like it before. That sweet, soft voice...her lovely face...that petite, perfect body..." Thoughts of the woman and her nakedness were enough to make his cock swell painfully in the limitations of his pants once more. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Why were you so worried about me? I was only gone for a few minutes."

"A few minutes? My Prince, no. You were gone for over two hours."

Leofrick stopped walking and turned to the larger man, confused. "What?"

When Bryce only returned his gaze, unspeaking, Leofrick turned his attention to the sky. He started upon seeing the drastic shift in the sun's position from when he had last been aware of it.

"But..."

"My Prince?"

"It isn't possible."

"I'm afraid it is, my Prince."

"I couldn't have been watching her that long."

"It seems that you were. She must have been a vision."

"She was." Leofrick started walking again, going only a few paces before saying, "Let's call off the hunting excursion. We're just wasting our time out here."

He scarcely heard Bryce's mumble of assent, his thoughts already slipping back to the memory of the young woman bathing in the stream.

I can't believe I lost track of time so badly while watching her. How that have happened?

Bryce's soft words brought him back to the moment as the large man asked, "Tell me about her, would you?"

Leofrick jumped slightly, startled at the sound of the other's voice and grinned sheepishly upon noticing that they had rejoined the other members of the hunting party.

As the group angled toward the distant castle, Leofrick said, "She was the most perfect woman I've ever seen. She was small, tiny almost, yet perfectly proportioned. She had the face of an angel, Bryce, so flawless and unspoiled... Her hair was blonde, I think. She had wet it, so it was darker, but I think it was blonde. And it was so long it hung to her waist. It floated on the water behind her as she washed herself."

Recalling details about the mysterious woman excited him and Leofrick began to speak faster, almost forgetting he had an audience, losing himself in thoughts of the woman he had seen.

"Her skin was devoid of hair, though. I've never seen such a thing before. She had eyebrows, but no hair at all on her below those that I could see."

"Most unusual," the other commented quietly.

"Yes," Leofrick agreed, "it was. But it was wonderful! I've never seen such smooth, soft-looking skin. You should've seen her!"

"What color were her eyes?"

"I couldn't tell. I only really saw them when she spotted me." Thoughts of Bryce's earlier interruption came back to him slowly, beginning to annoy him once more.

"Well," Bryce commented, "this ought to please the King and Queen. They'll be happy you're finally taking an interest in the fair sex. You're over thirty now. It's high time you were married."

"I've always had an interest in women. You know that."

"I know that you've taken your share of lovers over the years. But none have become anything serious. I've never heard you go on about a woman as you are this one."

"That's because I've never found the right woman before. That's why I've never married, or even bothered with a long-term relationship. I gave my virginity to the fifteen-year-old daughter of one of the castle cooks when I was only eleven-years-old. That afternoon introduced me to pleasures the likes of which I never knew could exist. But every girl and every woman I've taken to my bed has been nothing more than a pleasant diversion from the rest of my life. I've not felt enough for any of them to want more than otherwise meaningless sex with them. Not a one, Bryce. And I won't marry until I find someone truly special. Like maybe the woman I saw today."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

"You sound as if you know this woman you saw today, my Prince. Yet you only watched her bathe and listened to her sing. She didn't speak to you, nor you to her. You don't even know her name. You feel lust for her, but nothing more. You know nothing about her."

"It's a feeling. There's something different about her."

Leofrick lapsed into silence and refused to be goaded back into conversation. He remained quiet for the duration of the walk back to the castle, lost in private thoughts of the dazzling woman he had seen. He had to fight to keep his earlier fantasy about her from taking over his thoughts.

Upon reaching the castle, he left Bryce and the others to clean and stow the hunting gear and retired to his chambers to wash up before dinner.

Once sequestered away in his bedchamber, Leofrick poured water from a pitcher into a large basin. He turned to the sizeable, ornate, oval standing mirror and ran his fingers over the intricate scrollwork in the wooden frame. The scrollwork depicted layer upon layer of leafy ivy vines. As always, he looked carefully, spotting the artfully-hidden, tiny renditions of faerie folk secreted in the vines. The mirror had been in the room since before he had been born; stories rumored that it had been in place since the castle had been built centuries ago. The mirror had been Leofrick's all his life. Yet, even now, after a bit more than thirty years of examining the skillfully-crafted wooden frame, he still sometimes found a new faerie design that he had never spotted before.

He stripped out of his dirty clothing, tossing the grubby garments aside for the cleaning staff to deal with in the morning. Fully nude, he left his long brown hair in its ponytail and turned to the basin and picked up a cloth, wetting it. He washed quickly, removing the dirt and sweat of the hunting trip. As he washed, his thoughts wandered back to the young woman from the clearing.

I have to find her.

Drying with a fresh cloth, the prince stepped back to the mirror and stood before it, gazing at his reflection. His image stared back at him with appraising blue eyes above clean-shaved cheeks and chin. He was tall, his body long and lean, the faultless physique maintained by regular swims in the lake. His skin was mostly unmarred, yet held a few small scars here and there, legacy of a mixture of childhood mishaps and training accidents with swords. Thoughts of the young woman's own hairless flesh caused him to take special note of his own body hair. While he wasn't overly hairy, his sinewy musculature was adorned with dark brown strands that blended well with the tan he sported, gained during his frequent swims.

He flipped his ponytail back over his shoulder and let his eyes wander down his reflection until he found himself staring at the image of his cock. It was long and heavy even in its flaccid state. The tip of it peeked out from his foreskin just slightly.

Turning, Leofrick appraised his image from all sides, knowing that women found him attractive. He routinely received complements on both his body and his chiseled good looks. The memory of the look of abject horror he had seen on the beatific face of the woman in the clearing was a knife in his heart. Never in his life had a woman looked at him in such a way. For that look to have been cast upon him by such a divinely perfect woman bothered him deeply.

Moving away from the mirror, he quickly dressed in dinner finery of satin and silk before hurrying downstairs to the smaller, more informal dinning room. It was adjacent to the opulent dining hall and the King and Queen preferred it to the alternative when not entertaining. His parents were already there and the questions began the moment Leofrick was seated at the long wooden table. Servants were busy doling out portions of the meal.

Queen Cara Wykeham, lean and trim, her long, wavy honey-colored hair immaculate, graced her son with a smile. "Bryce tells us you met a woman while you were out today?"

Leofrick squirmed uncomfortably and waited until the servants had filled his plate before replying. "Saying that I met her would be reading too much into it, I'm afraid, Mother."

"Oh."

King Dugal Wykeham paused, his fork halfway to his bearded face. "So what did happen out there? Bryce made it sound as if you'd already fallen head-over-heels in love with someone."

Leofrick watched the King for a long moment before answering. His father still maintained his own body well, but did not have, and probably never would, regain a physique as admirable as Leofrick's own.

"Well," Leofrick said slowly, "Bryce needs to mind his own business."

"He's there to protect you," the Queen reminded him.

"I know. We all need a guard when we leave the castle. I accept that. But Bryce carries it too far."

The King nodded, saying, "You think that before an assassination attempt or before getting lost in the forest. But after? Afterward you sing a different tune!"

"Singing..." Leofrick muttered.

"What was that?" his father asked.

"Singing," Leofrick replied. "I heard singing and followed the sound. The song was being sang by the most indescribably beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"And?" Queen Cara promoted.

"And that was it," Leofrick said. "I was watching her when Bryce called for me. She heard Bryce's voice and it frightened her. She ran off."

"That's it?" King Dugal asked.

"That's it."

The Queen lowered her knife and fork. "Bryce makes it sound as if you were almost engaged to the girl."

"No such luck," he told her. "I didn't speak to her. She didn't speak to me. I don't even know her name."

"Oh," the Queen said again, more softly this time.

"An odd thing happened, though. As she was running off, she just seemed to...vanish."

"Vanish?" the King asked.

"Disappear."

"I know what the word means, son. But it's impossible."

Leofrick shrugged, saying, "It happened in Knavesmire Woods. Odd things happen in there all the time."

"All the more reason why it's good that Bryce was with you," the Queen said.

Leofrick groaned inwardly and turned his attention to his meal. He ate quickly and excused himself, retreating back to his chambers before a new round of questions or prompts to marry could begin after the meal.

Once back in his bedchamber again, he stood before the ornate mirror, staring at his reflection. He tried hard to see anything, any tiny, minor detail, that might elicit such a response of horror as had come over the young woman earlier that day. The thought of such a lovely woman reacting to the sight of him in such a way was deeply troubling.

Slowly, almost unaware of his actions, Leofrick removed his clothing, stripping away the layers of dinner finery until he was once again naked before the scroll-worked mirror.

I was dressed when she saw me, but still, maybe...

His gaze roved the image of his reflection as it had before dinner. He looked the same as always and could see no reason why a woman would look at him is such a manner.

Maybe she was simply thrown off because she realized that someone had been watching her? But if you bathe in such a place, you're apt to be seen. Especially when you sing as she did! It was almost as if she had been trying to draw attention to herself and was frightened when she did so. It doesn't make any sense!

Thoughts of the woman turned again to memories of her. Memories of her gave way to the fantasy of making sweet love to her that Leofrick had envisioned while watching her. He watched the reflection of his meaty cock as it grew, swelling with desire at his ribald thoughts, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

He reached down and took hold of his semi-erect shaft in a gentle grip, easing back his foreskin, revealing the engorging head. His arousal increased with his own touch, a wave of sheer bliss washing over him, beginning at his loins and spreading throughout his entire body.

Without turning from the image in the mirror, Leofrick walked backward slowly until he felt his bed pressing the backs of his legs. He sat, still holding his erection lightly. Watching the mirror, he wrapped his fingers around his cock and started to stroke.


Lovers' Veil



In his hand, his shaft grew harder and longer, its head swelling, turning purple and satiny. Leofrick kept fondling himself gently, unhurried. Though he watched his own image in the mirror, his mind called up the image of the gorgeous young woman from the clearing.

Leofrick sighed in pleasure and lay back on his bed, closing his eyes, focusing his entire awareness on the dual pleasures of the memory of the nude young woman and the feelings generated by his hand stroking his brawny cock.

In his mind, the prince returned to his prior fantasy. He imagined the young woman on his bed, her slender, graceful legs spread apart for him. He pictured himself in place between her svelte thighs, his cock sliding into her womanhood. He imagined her pert breasts flushing, her breath quickening, as he made love to her, their gazes locked together.

Leofrick felt the warm liquid satin of his secretions and eagerly wiped them up, using them to quell the building friction. Refocusing on the fantasy playing out in his mind, he tightened his grip on his hefty shaft slightly and increased the speed of his stroking.

Visualizing the young woman lying beneath him, her supple legs wrapped around him, drawing him deeply into her body, he stroked himself faster and faster.

His orgasm hit him without warning, washing over him, submerging him in mind-numbing pleasure. He groaned, teeth gritting together, lean hips bucking, as his hand moved even faster on his long, thick shaft, coaxing his seed into a powerful series of jets that arced to patter down on his chest and stomach.

He lay there, gasping for breath, spent and sweating, still clinging to the fantasy in his mind.

"I don't know who you are," he whispered to the image of the young woman in his fantasy, "but I swear by the gods that I will find you!"

Chapter 2

Princess Rhyannon Ensorcelledlight hastened through the light-and-shadow dappled woodlands of Gnomehearth Forest. Her panic fed her speed, which, in turn, fueled her desperation, which fed her panic. It was a cycle that kept her going at top speed, rushing ahead with little thought than to escape.

He saw me! That human saw me! How? How is that possible? How could he have seen through the Veil to Faerie? He's a human! That shouldn't be possible!

Still nude, not having bothered to stop for her clothing after realizing that the human had been watching her bathe, Rhyannon was nearly dry now, the flight-induced breeze of her getaway caressing her bare flesh. She could feel her waist-length hair fluttering behind her. It, too, felt nearly dry now.

She glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see him following her, attempting to chase her down. Her surprise at his absence made her stumble. Rhyannon slowed, catching her balance. Still wary, she continued on toward the castle, casting frequent looks back.

How could he have seen me? I didn't cross the Veil! The geography on this side and the human side are the same. But the races are vastly different. We Faerie races can peer through the Veil at times, with proper preparation. We can even cross over to the human side if we truly need to. But humans can't. It's nearly unheard of for a human to cross and those have nearly all been instances in which a faerie has crossed over and brought a human back. The two sides of the Veil are just slightly offset from each other. But it's enough to keep most humans from even being aware of our presence!

Rhyannon looked back once more. Still seeing no sign of the human, she slowed her pace more, allowing her breathing to return to a more normal rate.

Most humans regard us as being nothing more than myth and legend. Did that human know what I am? Is that why he was spying on me? And how was he able to see me to begin with?

She pondered her questions all the way back to the castle, unable to answer any of them.

Upon reaching the castle she and her father called home, Rhyannon swept by the honor guards, not speaking to them, still lost in her thoughts. The guards, dressed in opulent silk and parade armor of the finest crystal, took no notice of her blatant nudity, only nodding at her politely as she went by them and into the entry hall.

She hurried along, making her way quickly as she could upstairs to her chambers.

Going directly into her bedchamber, Rhyannon stood before the ornate, oval standing mirror. The piece was so tall that it towered over her. Her father had offered to have it removed in favor of something more befitting her small size. She had refused, smitten with the intricate scrollwork on the mirror's heavy frame. The carvings were of many overlapping layers of ivy vines, fully leafed out, twinning together in braids and other designs. Hidden throughout were minuscule images of faeries. Rhyannon loved looking at the ornate work, trying to find the hidden faeries. According to her father, the mirror had stood in place since the construction of the castle many centuries earlier. It had belonged to Rhyannon for her entire life. Yet, after nearly thirty years of looking at it, she still discovered new faeries hidden in the scrollwork from time to time.

She gazed at her reflection, frowning. Her flight through Gnomehearth Forest had left her covered in dirt and bits of leaves and other woodland detritus. Her long blonde hair was a tangled mess. Her frown deepened as she took in the full extent of the mess she had become.

Sighing, Rhyannon stepped to a side table and grabbed up a highly-wrought comb that had been hand-carved from a single piece of golden wood. Returning to the mirror, she set to work on her hair, combing it out, ridding it of bits of leaves and twigs.

Upon finishing with her hair, she replaced the comb on the table and took up a pitcher of water, pouring part of its contents into a matching basin. Wetting a soft cloth, she returned to the mirror and watched her image as she wiped her skin clean.

The human wore clothing. It's true! They do cover their bodies with fabric and hide themselves from each other!

She couldn't help but laugh at such a ludicrous notion.

The stories must be true; humans must consider nudity to be shameful. How silly! Was that why he was watching me? Because I was naked? But if he found my nudity shameful, why would he watch and not turn away?

As Rhyannon washed, she thought more about the human she had discovered watching her in the clearing. She envisioned the look of pure wondrous adoration that had been on his face when she had first turned and spotted him.

He was quite handsome. Even by fey standards. Though he was far too tall. I wonder how his body would look stripped of those ridiculous layers of clothing?

Picturing the man naked in her mind, Rhyannon found herself envisioning a perfect, lean body endowed with amply-large genitals.

She was amazed when her mouth began to water at the image in her mind. She focused on her reflection in the mirror before her and was surprised to see her pink nipples tightening into fleshy buds of arousal. Slowly, she reached down, smoothing her dainty fingers over her pubis, dipping lightly into the swelling folds of flesh. Moisture greeted her exploring touch. She massaged herself lightly, sighing with bliss at the pleasure.

He was quite handsome...

Returning the cloth to the basin of water, Rhyannon stood once more before the mirror, looking at her reflection. In her mind, she pictured herself on her bed with the human man. In her fantasy, she lay on her back, legs spread, guiding his full shaft into her body. Her attention on the daydream was so great that she began to see it overlaying the real vision of the mirror and her reflection before her. She watched her image as her nipples grew harder. Satiny moisture dripped from her folds. The musky scent of her arousal only served to entice her even more.

Rhyannon backed slowly from the mirror, still watching her image in the glass, until she felt the plush comforter covering her bed brush the backs of her legs. Slowly, parting her legs slightly, still staring at her reflection, she sat.

Spreading her legs further, she ran her hands lightly over her inner thighs, shivering at the sensations, imagining it was her voyeuristic human who was touching her so intimately.

When she returned her fingers to her sex, she found that she was dripping wet and swollen with arousal. Lying back, she closed her eyes and concentrated, dividing her attention equally between the sensations her touch sent washing through her burning flesh and the imagined fantasy of making love to the human.

One hand stole to her chest, toying with her hardened nipples, as her other moved over her sex, fingers flexing, massaging. Her breath quickened and her hips squirmed.

Finally, after long minutes of joyful work, Rhyannon gasped, her spine going rigid with pleasure. A small squeak of sheer delight escaped her lips as hot, fragrant liquid ran over her busy fingers, coating her hand and inner thighs.

After catching her breath, she smiled warmly and rolled over, pretending she was turning to hold her human lover.

Incredible! That was simply incredible!

Allowing herself a time to bask in the warm feelings her touch had elicited, and for her fever of desire to cool somewhat, Rhyannon reluctantly rose. Taking up the cloth once more, she washed herself again, ridding herself of the drying, sticky secretions of her playtime.

Dropping the cloth back in the basin, she took up a long train of thin, diaphanous green silk and wrapped herself in it. She was just tucking the end into a fold of material to keep the garment in place when a heavy knock sounded on the thick wooden door of her chambers.

"Coming," she called, moving through the sitting chamber to the door.

She opened it to find her father, King Oakenmace Ensorcelledlight, standing in the doorway. Though not much taller than Rhyannon herself, King Ensorcelledlight was layered with sculpted muscles that showed beneath his own translucent silken wrap. His beard, full, bushy and white-blonde, bristled as he watched her. Beside and behind him stood Leurre.

The changeling was tall, far taller than most beings in faerie, nearly six-feet-tall.

Almost as tall as my human.

Leurre was skeletally-thin, gray skin, rough and wrinkled, was drawn tautly over his frame. His eyes were deeply-sunked and gleamed with sickly bruise-purple light. His mouth was wide and nearly lipless. The changeling wore nothing but a simple loincloth of tattered black canvas.

"Father," Rhyannon said coldly, ignoring Leurre.

The changeling slipped passed the King and pushed by Rhyannon, intruding into her chambers.

"Greetings, betrothed," Leurre croaked at her in his harsh, broken voice.

Rhyannon winced at the endearment, spinning to face the emaciated being. She made no effort to hide her repugnance or contempt when she spoke.

"I've told you not to call me that. I'll not marry you. Not ever. You disgust me, you slimy piece of troll feces!"

King Ensorcelledlight followed the changeling into the sitting chamber. "Hush, daughter! Be more polite to your husband-to-be!"

Her only reply was a appalled snort.

"The marriage has been arranged since you were a child. It stands firm to this day. You will become Leurre's bride on the night of this year's Samhain, during the full moon ritual," her father said.

Rhyannon stared at the King, pointedly ignoring the changeling. "Why are you here, Father?"

Before the King could reply, Leurre stepped forward, placing a light hand upon her shoulder. She jerked away, nauseated by the touch.

"I merely wanted to see my bride-to-be and pay my respects," Leurre crooned hoarsely. "We are to be wed soon. It is my right to see you."

He tried to embrace her, but Rhyannon twisted away, her stomach churning at the thought of touching the vile creature.

"Out!" she ordered. "Both of you, get out. Father, please, get out of my chambers. Leurre? Get out of my chambers, our castle and my life and never come back!"

"Rhyannon, he has every right-"

She cut her father off, saying, "No! Where I'm concerned, he has no rights."

King Oakenmace Ensorcelledlight's face darkened. "Listen to me, daughter. Listen well! I am not only your father, but your King. You will do as I tell you. And I'm telling you that you will marry Leurre on Samhain. He is here now, because I have invited him to the castle. He lives here now."

"What?"

He held up a hand, forestalling more protests. "He is to be your husband. You are my daughter, Princess of this realm. One day I shall be gone and you will then be Queen. As your husband, Leurre will become King."

"No!"

The King went on as if she had not spoken, saying, "Leurre has come to us now to begin learning how to properly rule. He shall live here, in these chambers with you, after you are wed, anyway. I've invited him here to the castle to settle in and begin the learning process now. Of course he won't share these chambers until you are wed."

"Father..." Rhyannon was so angry that she had to pause to find her voice before continuing. "Yes, if he were to marry me he would indeed be our King someday. Which is why he wants to marry me!" She caught the fleeting look of greed that passed over the changeling's drawn face. "That's his sole reason for wanting me! He knows he'll be next in line for the throne if he marries me!"

"Nonsense!" Leurre said softly. "I love you, Rhyannon."

"There," the King said quickly, pointing at Leurre. "You see?"

"What I see, Father, is that if I were to marry this... creature...you would soon meet an untimely end. And I'm sure I'd follow soon after!"

"Beloved!" Leurre interjected, "how can you say such things? How can you even think them?"

"Rhyannon!" her father nearly bellowed, outraged. "You apologize to Leurre at once!"

"I'll do nothing of the sort! Now do as I said and get out!"

"No," the King said sharply. "We shall not. Again, I am your father and your King. I have ever right to be here. Leurre is your betrothed and that gives him right to be here. He has every right to visit his intended. You two need to know each other better before you are wed."

"I know all I need to know about him and more, Father. I will not marry this piece of filth!"

"Rhyannon-"

She cut him off, speaking louder, saying, "And if you try to force me to, I swear by the gods that I'll kill myself on the eve of Samhain!"

Both Leurre and the King stared at her in shock for long moments as she seethed silently at them. Her father recovered first.

"Rhyannon, mind your tongue! Apologize at once!"

"Your Highness?" the changeling said softly, "it's alright. She's just nervous. I forgive her harsh words. She's young and the prospect of marrying looms large before her. I forgive her easily because I know how she feels. I, too, am nervous. We will have plenty of time to spend together after we are married."

"I meant what I said," she told them. "I'll not marry this vile...thing...and will kill myself if you try to force the issue."

Leurre's only reply was a sly grin before turning and leaving her chambers. The King looked after the changeling, watching him go, before turning back to his daughter.

"You will marry him."

"No. I will not. You may be my father and my King, but not even you can force me to marry Leurre. Call the wedding off, Father. If you don't, I swear to you that you'll wake on the eve of Samhain to find my cold corpse in these chambers."

He stared at her for a long moment, his mounting anger obvious in his posture and expression. Finally, without a parting word, he turned and exited, slamming the thick wooden door closed with a sound that echoed down the hallway outside.

Rhyannon stared at the door for several seconds, hot tears filling her eyes. She turned and flung herself onto her bed, weeping openly. Her soft cries turned to hard, wracking sobs before finally subsiding into sniffles and whimpers long minutes later.

She forced herself up, wiping her eyes, first with her bare hands, then with the sheer gossamer material she wore wrapped around her. Standing before her mirror, ignoring for once the convoluted scrollwork, she stared into the glass, struggling to compose herself. She wished desperately for a way out of the arranged marriage.

I meant what I said, though. If they try to force me to go through with the marriage, I will die by my own hand.

Chapter 3

Prince Leofrick Wykeham lay on his bed, atop the lavish quilts. He lay naked, on his back, his enlarged shaft rigid and hot in his hand as he stroked it quickly, using his own secretions as lubricant against friction.

In his mind, he was once again making love to the beautiful young woman whom he had seen bathing in the clearing stream the previous day. He whispered sweet devotions to her as he worked his manhood slowly, arousing it to greater length and firmness. Each time he felt himself nearing climax, he would slow his hand, trying to prolong the exquisite feelings of ecstasy that rolled through his fevered body, forcing away all other sensations, swallowing him body and mind.

Finally, at last, he could no longer hold back. His lean body inflexible, his back arced, his teeth grinding together, he began to climax. His burning seed landed on his bare stomach and chest, seemingly fiery hot. His hips bucked as he moved his hand quickly as he could, moaning soft words of dedication to the memory of the mysterious young woman.

Spent, he lay still, lungs heaving as he sought to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed. In his mind, his fantasy played out through its conclusion and he imagined himself holding the lovely woman, cradling her against him. He could almost feel the heat of her bare flesh pressed against his own.

After a while, he forced himself to rise from his bed. Pouring water from the pitcher into the basin, he wet a cloth and began to wash himself clean. He continued to think of the woman as he worked.

"Who are you?" he asked her memory. "I don't even know your name, yet I've become obsessed with you! I don't think I shall know peace until I've found you!"

Unable to force thoughts of her from his mind, the Prince finished washing and dressed in a linen hunting shirt and leather pants. Dressed, he left his chambers and descended the stairs, making his way to the small dining room where the servants had laid out breakfast. He ate swiftly, scarcely chewing or tasting his meal, then left the castle proper for the stables. He had the stable boy on duty saddle a horse for him and mounted as soon as could, turning the steed toward Knavesmire Woods.

"If Bryce Cartwright or anyone else asks," he told the stable boy, "you've no idea where I've gone. Only tell them if I've not returned by evening."

"Yes, my Prince," the young boy responded.

"Good lad."

Leofrick rode steadily, wishing to hurry, yet not wanting to overtax his mount. He made his way to the clearing in which he had seen the enigmatic young woman the afternoon before. Upon reaching the clearing, he slowed his mount to a walk and moved in the direction of the stream, casting careful looks at the ground. He could plainly see signs of his own passage, left during his search for the woman the prior day, but no sign of the woman herself.

Perplexed, he rode across the brook, checking again the place where the naked young woman had scrambled up the embankment. He found nothing. Riding a short ways further, he still saw no sign of her passing. Mystified, he turned his steed to the far tree line, aiming for the general place he thought the woman had entered. Reaching the trees, he dismounted and tied the reins to a tree, leaving the horse to graze on the verdant grass.




Lovers' Veil



He entered a deeper area of Knavesmire Woods, searching the shadowed gloom for the slightest sign that the woman, or anyone else, had passed. After searching for hours he gave up, discouraged and empty-handed. He returned to his horse, untied the reins, mounted and turned back for home. He rode more quickly now, wishing to be back before the stable boy could follow his command and alert Bryce or anyone else as to where he had gone.

Reaching the stables, Leofrick found a different boy on duty. As he turned his steed over to the boy he stepped aside to allow the young man room to work. He disliked the smell of the stable, but was willing to put up with for a short while longer.

"Do you know why I've been out all day?" he asked the boy.

"No, my Prince," the boy said softly, working to remove the saddle from the horse. "It's not any of my business."

"I was out looking for someone."

"I hope you found him."

"Her. And no, I didn't."

The boy slung the saddle over a low wooden beam and turned to take the woven blanket from the steed's back. "I'm sorry, sir."

Leofrick grinned, saying, "Thank you. I was hoping maybe you could help me."

"Me, sir?" The boy turned and froze, staring up at him, his expression one of utter shock.

"Yes, you." The Prince stepped forward slowly, speaking more softly. "I saw her yesterday while Bryce and I were out with the hunting party. She was the most ravishingly gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on. But she ran off before I could speak to her. I don't know her name or where she lives or anything else about her."

"If you saw her in Knavesmire Woods, I'd expect that she lives fairly near. Unless she was traveling, that is," the boy said.

Leofrick nodded. "My thoughts exactly. I need to find her. I can't stop thinking about her."

"And how might I help, my Prince?"

"I was hoping you'd recognize her if I described her to you. Anything you know about her might help me find her."

The stable boy nodded, saying, "I hope I can be of help. What did she look like?"

Leofrick thought back, instantly loosing himself in the memory of the bathing beauty. "She was very small and delicate, not much larger that you yourself are. She was very petite, fragile-looking, actually. She had waist-length blonde hair and angelic features."

"She sounds more child than woman, sir. Are you certain..."

"Yes. She was most definitely a woman. Do you know, or have you seen, anyone that my description might match?"

The stable boy's expression fell. "No, sir. I'm sorry."

Leofrick sighed. "It's alright. It's not your fault. I was just grasping at straws."

"In the horse stable, my Prince? And excellent place to do so."

Leofrick stared at the boy for a long moment, trying to figure the meaning of his words. As he watched, the boy's expression slowly morphed into a sly grin. Leofrick glanced down at the scattered straw on the floor and the meaning of the comment struck him. He laughed and patted the boy on the shoulder.

"Thank you. I needed the laugh. Well, I'll leave you to your work. Thank you again for your time."

"It was a pleasure, my Prince."

Leaving the stable, Leofrick returned to the castle proper and climbed the stairs to his chambers. The mirth inspired by the stable boy was fading, slowly being replaced with disappointment at not being able to find the woman he sought.

In his bedchamber, he sat on the foot of his mattress and stared straight ahead, gazing at his reflection in the mirror.

There must be a way of finding her!

He sat there for a long while, wracking his mind for any idea. When nothing presented itself he heaved a deep sigh and forced himself to his feet. Leaving his chambers, he wandered the upper stories of the castle for a time, lost in thought, before returning to his chambers just prior to suppertime to wash and dress for the meal.

When he reached the dining room, he found his parents already seated. Servants were serving the evening meal. As before, the questions began the instant he was seated.

The King paused between bites, saying, "Word is circulating that you're seeking a woman."

"Did the stable boy-"

"No," his father said, cutting him off. "It's Bryce. He's happy that you've finally taken such an interest in someone. He's apparently unable to keep the news contained."

"I should've known."

"You said little about her before. Tell us about her," his mother said.

Leofrick waited until he had a full plate before him to answer. "She not just any woman. What has Bryce told you?"

King Dugal eyed him, saying, "Not too much."

"Tell us about her," Queen Cara urged.

Leofrick sighed. "There's not much to tell. I saw her. Before I could speak to her, Bryce frightened her off. It's just like I told you yesterday evening when we had this same conversation. I don't know her name or where she lives or anything else about her."

"Yet you act as if you're madly in love with her," the King pointed out.

Leofrick nodded, saying, "I know. I can't explain it. Even after the peculiar way she just vanished. I ought to be frightened by that. Or at least concerned. But I'm not. My only thought is to find her again."

The Queen fixed him in place with a steely gaze, saying, "That's still no excuse for going out today with Bryce!"

"I didn't go far."

The King's own expression now matched his wife's. "Sometimes you don't have to, son. How many times do we have to tell you that?"

"I only went a short way into Knavesmire Woods. There are no dangers in the near end."

"No danger?" his mother exclaimed. "Tell that to all the poor men who have disappeared in those woods over the years! That's how Knavesmire Woods got its name, if you'll remember your schooling. The place is named for all the poor knaves who went in and never came back out!"

His father chuckled. "Maybe the faeries got them!"

"Don't start with that nonsense!" the Queen chided him. "We're trying to have a serious talk with our son."

King Dugal spread his hands. "I can't help it if I'm a romantic at heart, my dear. I like those old stories." He shifted his attention to Leofrick. "Since no one ever found a trace of those people, stories sprang up that the faeries got hold of them and took them across the Veil. Take care in Knavesmire Woods, lest the faeries get you, too, son."

Queen Cara couldn't help but laugh. She gave her husband a light smack on the hand and graced her son with a long-suffering look. "Your father wishes that faeries were real, I think."

The King nodded, swallowing a bite of food. "We could do with some magick in the world."

"Yes," Leofrick agreed. "Magick seems to the only way I'm going to find this woman."

King Dugal sobered at his son's words. "I don't care if you keep looking for her. But you're to take Bryce out with you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Father," Leofrick sighed.

"Your father is right," Queen Cara said softly. "There are those out there who would hurt you. Or kidnap you as a way of getting at your father. Take Bryce. It's best to be prepared."

"Yes, Mother."

"So tell us," the Queen prompted, "just what's so special about this mystifying woman? What did she do to you that's making you obsess over her as you are?"

"I'm curious about that, myself," the King commented.

Leofrick pushed his half-eaten meal away and leaned back in his chair, settling against the plush cushioning behind him. "I really can't say. That's part of why this is so strange. She sang like an angel. It was her song that led me to her. She was the most unbelievably beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. But those are the only things I know about her."

His mother nodded, saying, "Why not forget about her? As you keep saying, the odds of finding her are slim. Even if your father put out a royal decree for every girl in the kingdom matching her description to come to the castle she may not be there. If her family lives deep enough in the woods they might not hear of the decree. Or she might not be from this kingdom. Maybe she was just passing through."

"I know," Leofrick said, sighing.

"So why not forget her?" the Queen pressed. "There are so many lovely young ladies in this kingdom. And there are a few Princesses in neighboring kingdoms that I know for a fact fancy you. You have a very large pool of women to choose from, all of whom would simply love to marry you. Why not stop obsessing over this one woman you don't even know and start looking to the others?"

Leofrick sighed again. "Because I'm not interested in any of those women, Mother. We've had this conversation before. All they're interested in is their public image and my money."

"But you're over thirty now," the King said. "It's time you found someone and married."

"I will, Father. Soon as I find the right woman. And there was something special about the one I saw yesterday. If I can find her again, I might have my bride. Now, if you'll both please excuse me."

He stood from the table and left, going back upstairs to his chambers.

Once more in his bedchamber, Leofrick sat on the foot of his mattress, again staring at his image in the ornately scrolled mirror that stood a few feet away.

Where are you? How can I find you?

Thoughts of the unknown young woman filled his mind completely as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Slowly, his vision grew unfocused and blurred. It took him some time to grow aware of the change in the mirror's image. His first instinct was to blink his vision clear, but he fought it, not knowing if he would lose the image or, if he did, if he would be able to get it back.

The image in the mirror was no longer his own. Leofrick found that he was staring at the unfocused image of the very woman he was so desperate to find. She wore only a long train of green diaphanous material wrapped around her nubile form. Though the garment covered her, its sheer transparency allowed him to see her delicate pink nipples and the smooth folds of her womanhood. She was crying, sobbing hard, tears streaking down her youthful face. Her lips moved, but Leofrick could hear no sounds. Despite that, he knew, somehow he knew, that she was calling for him. She was in trouble of some kind and was calling to him for rescue. He had no idea how he was aware of that, but he was certain of it.

The shock of the realization brought him to his feet. Instinctively, he blinked and the image in the mirror was gone as if it had never been. He stared at the mirror for long moments, stunned. Then he chuckled and sat back down, chiding himself for the fantasy.

"Father," he said softly, "your tales of faerie beings in the woods are starting to effect me, I think."

He shook his head, trying to dismiss what he had seen. Yet he was unable to rid himself of the certainty that the woman he sought was in some type of trouble and needed him. The longer he thought, the harder his resolve grew.

"I will find you," he said, staring at the mirror once more. "I promise that I'll find you."

Chapter 4

Princess Rhyannon Ensorcelledlight stood before the elaborate mirror, still clad in her filmy, gossamer silk wrap. Tears ran down her flushed cheeks as she prayed silently to her patron goddess. She prayed, pouring her entire will, all of her energy, into a request for deliverance from her arranged marriage to Leurre. The thought of carrying through on her threat to end her own life as a way out of the marriage chilled her to the core. She would kill herself if it came to that, but the mere contemplation of such an act sickened her. She pleaded to the goddess, begging her for an alternative.

As Rhyannon recited her silent appeal over and over, she gradually grew aware of the fact that, though her entreaties were still directed to her patron goddess, the image of her mysterious human watcher had, once more, crept into her mind. Rhyannon realized that her prayers had gone from a request for some nebulous release from the arranged marriage to an appeal to send her enigmatic human to rescue her. The realization made her focus all the harder, imbuing her pleas with not only her desperation to escape the arranged marriage, but her desire to see the voyeuristic human again.

A knock on the heavy door of her chambers broke her concentration. Rhyannon wiped her face with her bare hands, trying in vain to dry her eyes.

"Who is it?" she asked softly, not trusting her voice.

The only response was another loud knock.

Silently cursing the interruption, she crossed from her bedchamber to the sitting room, padding to the door on bare feet. Expecting her father, come again to demand her apologies to Leurre, she took a firm grip on the hand-carved handle yanked the door open. She was stunned to see the elven servant in the hallway outside.

He was dressed in the billowing silk finery of the servant staff, their lack of nudity symbolizing their lack of freedom, their servitude. His head was slightly bowed. A silver tray was held expertly in his lean hands. A tall, tapered glass bottle of dark wine stood beside a highly-wrought, jewel-encrusted pewter goblet on the serving tray.

"As you have been in your chambers for so long," the servant told her in a soft voice, stepping forward, placing himself in the arched doorway, "I thought that you might like a bit of refreshment. I can bring some food along, too, if it pleases you."

Rhyannon felt a bit of her despair melt away at the elf's quiet manner and thoughtful offering. The tirade she had been prepared to unleash still struggled to burst free. But the servant had done nothing to deserve such a rebuke.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "but no. I'm not in the mood."

She moved to close the door, but the elf simply stood where he was, slightly bowed, holding the tray and its contents as an offering.

When Rhyannon spoke again, her voice was firmer, taking on an edge. "No, thank you."

Still, the elf did not move. Rhyannon felt the anger returning.

"Please return the wine to the kitchens. I don't want it."

Rather than voice a verbal reply, the elven servant bowed a bit lower and stepped forward, pushing by Rhyannon, forcing her backward, and entering into her sitting chamber. Outraged, the princess spun around to face the impertinent elf, shocked at his brazenness.

Before she could utter a word of the furious diatribe that came to mind, he began to shimmer. It was as if Rhyannon were seeing him through a heavy flickering of heat haze, but only the elf wavered, not the air around him. Before Rhyannon could even think to wonder what she was seeing, gone were the elven servant and his finery. Leurre stood before her, still holding the serving tray with its bottle of wine and goblet, nude but for his grimy, black loincloth.

"You refuse the gift from a servant," he said, voice cracked and harsh, "but would you also refuse it from your husband-to-be?"

Rhyannon felt her eyes widen with her mixture of shock, indignation and horror. "How dare you? You have no right to enter these chambers! You didn't before, when Father brought you, and you certainly don't now without his escort! Get out!"

The changeling simply placed the tray atop an elegant bookstand, picking up the wine bottle. Uncorking it, he poured a serving of the dark fluid into the goblet and held it out to her in silent offering.

"I would refuse a drink offered to me by you if I were dying of thirst and lost in the hottest desert!" Rhyannon shouted.

Leurre's already misshapen face crumpled into a scowl. He reached out his free hand, grasped her wrist with tacky fingers and forced her to take the goblet. Wine slopped over the edge, dampening Rhyannon's fingers.

Instantly, she tossed the wine into the changeling's face and swung the heavy pewter goblet at his head. Leurre's cold, clammy fingers caught her wrist again, intercepting the blow meant to crush his skull. He gave a savage twist and she cried out, releasing the goblet. It fell, striking the rug-covered stone floor with a dull thump.

"Let go of me!" she demanded, struggling.

Without a word, Leurre turned her around, putting her back to him, and wrenched her arm up. She shrieked, pain lancing through her shoulder.

As she gasped against the agony throbbing its way along her arm to her wrist, Leurre marched her into her bedchamber. Giving her a hard shove that nearly dislocated her shoulder, he sent her tumbling face-first onto her bed.

She tried to roll over, still trying to find her voice in her haze of pain, but the changeling grabbed her, flipping her onto her back. She tried to speak, but he clenched strong fingers onto her injured shoulder. Pain stole what little breath she had left.

Leurre hooked clammy fingers into the folds of silk that she wore wrapped around herself and pulled. Rhyannon gasped sharply at the painful pinches and tugs as her attacker tore the filmy garment from her upper body, leaving her small breasts revealed to his lecherous gaze.

"You are mine," he whispered softly, words barely discernable due to his fractured voice. "You will do well to remember that. Your father, your King, has promised you to me. Accept that fact now, rather than waiting until we are wed. It will make your life so much simpler and easier."

Shifting positions, Leurre tore her garment away completely, leaving her naked on the bed. Rhyannon stared up at him, frightened by both his attack and his size. Standing, he towered over her. Lying on her back, hurting from his assaults on her, he seemed huge.

The changeling stepped away a few inches, keeping his gleaming, sickly, bruise-purple eyes focused on her. Slowly, as if wanting to put on a show for her, he untied his loincloth and let it fall away. He stood naked before her, his withered, gnarled cock already semi-erect, its light gray tip peeking out of the darker gray foreskin. The shriveled gray sac of his testicals hung limply. Already, a thin line of glistening, sticky fluid was stretching to the floor from Leurre's cock. He grinned at her, the expression holding no warmth, no love, but only twisted desire.

Rhyannon remained frozen, her appalled gaze fixed on the changeling's stiffening erection, as Leurre returned to her. The changeling began to crawl up her body, looming over her. When she felt the sticky tip of Leurre's member graze her thigh she screamed, the effort ripping at her throat.

"Remember," Leurre said, "you belong to me."

Rhyannon bucked, throwing Leurre off balance. Bringing up her legs, she planted the soles of her feet on his chest and kicked, hard, dumping him to the floor. She rolled over, getting off the bed, trying to ignore the ache in her arm and the nausea that twisted her stomach.

"Get out!" she screamed. "Get out now before I find a knife and rid you of your grotesque genitals!"

Leurre climbed unsteadily to his feet, his efforts hampered by his fully-engorged shaft. "You excite me, Princess. And I will have you. Your father has promised that."

Rhyannon stepped away, wanting more distance between them. "What would my father say if he knew you were trying to rape me? I'm his only daughter; his only child! What would he say to what you're trying to do now?"

Leurre hesitated now, expression uncertain.

"I'm going to tell him," Rhyannon said, pushing ahead. "Leave now. Maybe you can outrun the guards he's sure to send after you."

The changeling opened his mouth, closed it, then jabbed a thin, twisted finger in her direction. "Wait until we are wed. From that night on, you will belong to me; you will be mine to do with as I please."

Leurre shimmered and Rhyannon once again saw the image of the thin, immaculately-dressed elven servant before her. He turned away, stopped only long enough to pick up the discarded loincloth. Rhyannon followed at a distance, watching the changeling leave her chambers. She rushed to the door, slamming it shut and locking it securely.




Lovers' Veil



She managed to hold back her tears until returning to her bedchamber. Once there, she sat on the edge of her quilt-covered mattress and sobbed.

After a while, she pulled herself together enough to stop crying. Wiping her eyes, she stood and padded over to a tall, handcrafted wardrobe. Opening it, she removed a long strip of gauzy yellow silk and wrapped herself in it. Closing the wardrobe, she crossed to a set of double doors and opened them, stepping out onto her private balcony.

She stood at the chest-high stone guard rail, looking out, smelling the fragrance of the blossoms growing on the trellis below her. The kingdom that her father ruled stretched out away for miles upon miles, a living patchwork of fields and forestland, pastures and meadows. Here and there, small streams crisscrossed the land. In the distance, tiny due to the perspective, was a river that she knew to be wide and fierce.

One day this would all have been mine, too. Now, if I stay, if I live, I shall be forced to marry Leurre. When Father is gone, all of this will pass to Leurre. And he will ruin it as he just tried to ruin me. I can't - I won't - allow him to despoil this kingdom.

She looked down, checking for guards. She saw no one. Not allowing herself time to think about it, she climbed over the guardrail and onto the trellis. She knew the trellis would hold her weight, as she had tested it before as a means of emergency escape.

Without looking down, Rhyannon climbed. When she reached the ground long minutes later her fingers and toes ached from the stress of maintaining their grip on the wooden slats. Her injured shoulder sent jolts of pain through her arm with every movement. She paused, glancing around.

If I tell Father that Leurre tried to rape me it would do no good. Leurre has Father too firmly under his spell. I'm just lucky that there's enough doubt to have made Leurre leave my chambers before. But Father will only see and hear what Leurre wants him to. Father will do only what Leurre wants him to do. Leurre doesn't need me to clinch his rule on my Father's kingdom. He already has control!

Stepping away from the castle wall, the trellis and the tangles of carefully cultivated floral vines, she pointed herself in the direction of Gnomehearth Forest. She set out at a run, needing to put as much distance as possible between herself and Leurre. As she ran, she wondered why she had chosen Gnomehearth Forest as her destination.

Not my destination. It's just a stop along the way. But why bother? It's not as if he'll be there, watching and waiting for me to return to that clearing. I'll never see him again. Ever. Whatever led to him being able to see me, to spy on me, was a fluke. He's gone.

Yet she refused to change course and ran for Gnomehearth Forest.

Green fields passed quickly as her petite form nearly flew along. Her feet scarcely touched the ground in her haste.

She was nearly to the outer edges of Gnomehearth Forest when Leurre swung from behind a tree to grab her. She was so stunned by his appearance that several seconds passed before she found her voice.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, struggling.

He was already dragging her in the direction of the castle. He walked, making no reply.

Rhyannon twisted, struggling in his too tight grip. "You have no right to touch me! Release me!" She brought up a hand, beating on his misshapen chest.

The changeling threw her to the ground, leaping atop her, pinning her. His face pressed in close to her own. She gasped, frozen by thoughts of what he was about to inflict upon her. Her heart hammered in her chest, her pulse drumming in her ears.   "Princess...no one is out here but us. I could do anything I wanted to do to you. Keep that in mind. I could rip the clothing from your body once more, force myself upon you, into you. I could spend hours enjoying your lovely young body in ways you can't even begin to imagine! If, when I was finished, you were too badly broken, I could simply leave you out here for the wolves or trolls to find. You are completely at my mercy. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," she said. The word came out as a weak little whimper.

"Good. You will learn to accept me, accept that I am part of your life. You not love me now, you may not ever come to love me. You need not love me to marry me and satisfy my urges. But you will accept me!"

She was sickened by his words, yet too terrified to resume her struggle. She was amazed when he stood and yanked her back to her feet. He gripped her wrist tightly with his moist, clammy fingers.

"Move," he ordered. "Back to the castle."

Too relived to argue, she did as he said. He walked beside her the entire way back, not once letting go of her wrist.

Upon returning to the castle, the changeling took her directly to her father's chambers and pounded loudly on the heavy double doors.

The doors opened a moment later, revealing her father, King Oakenmace Ensorcelledlight. He stared at Rhyannon and Leurre, stunned.

"What's going on?" the King asked.

Leurre shoved her into her father's sitting chamber and followed her inside.

"I went to visit her earlier," the changeling said, not allowing Rhyannon time to speak. "I simply wanted to visit her."

"He tried to rape me!" Rhyannon screamed.

"Silence, daughter! Leurre? Continue, please."

"When I tried to civil to her, she reacted as she always does, ordering me out. Not wishing to upset her, I left."

"Liar!"

The King waved her quiet and motioned for the changeling to speak again.

Leurre bowed slightly, saying, "I'm afraid that she tried to run away, sire."

"What?" the King gasped, turning his full attention to Rhyannon for the first time.

"I'm left with no choice! If I stay, I'll either be made to marry this...creature...or dead by my own hand!"

Leurre stepped closer to the King. "I suspected she might try something like that and was watching her."

"You were spying on me?" Rhyannon asked, aghast.

The changeling went on as if she hadn't spoken. "I managed to get in front of her and cut her off. I brought her right home."

"Thank you," the King said flatly, still staring at Rhyannon.

The Princess turned to Leurre. "Stop poisoning my father's mind! Leave him alone!"

The changeling shrugged, saying, "Sire...Your Highness... I merely took some wine to her, trying to atone for upsetting her before. You see how she's reacting... She threw wine in my face and tried to hit me with the goblet. I don't know what malady she suffers from, but I think she should be restrained. For her own good and safety, of course."

"No!" Rhyannon gasped, backing away.

The King turned slightly, bellowing, "Guards!"

A pair of elves, dressed in dark silk and crystal, armed with crystalline swords, appeared at once, opening the double doors to the King's chambers.

"Father, no!" Rhyannon begged.

He ignored her, saying, "My daughter is ill. She has tried to harm her betrothed and threatened to end her own life. Take her into custody. See to it that she isn't able to injure herself or anyone else."

The elven guards saluted and took hold of Rhyannon, who struggled against them.

"Be careful with her," Leurre said softly, a leer on his face as he turned his back on the King to face her.

"Yes," her father said. "She isn't being punished. As I said, she's ill. Rhyannon? I'm sorry. But until this passes, there is nothing else I can do."

"Father, please-"

"No, daughter. This is for your own good. Your wedding isn't for a few months yet. I'm sure by then you'll have made a full recovery."

As Rhyannon was pulled from her father's chambers, the last thing she heard was Leurre saying, "Thank you for your kindness and understanding, sire. With your permission, I'll seek out the best healer in your kingdom. I'll do whatever it takes to see to it that your lovely daughter is ready for our wedding night on time."

Chapter 5

Prince Leofrick Wykeham paced his chambers, trying, and failing, to think of anything new to try in his attempts at locating the woman he sought. He knew nothing about her. He had no idea who she was or where she lived. Did she live in his father's sovereignty? Did she live close to the castle, or far away, on the edges of the realm? Or did she live in another kingdom and had only been passing through? What was her name? He had patrolled the castle, stables and the grounds beyond, asking anyone he met if they knew a woman matching her description. No one did.

Maybe I should ask Father to do as Mother had suggested. Maybe if he sent out a royal decree for all women matching her description to come to the castle I could find her. As Mother said, it's not a foolproof plan. But at least I'd have a chance at finding her! As it is, I have none!

His pacing continued for a long while as he went over the same thoughts and dead-end mental roads again and again. He was finally interrupted by a firm knock on the door of his chambers. He sighed, not wanting the disturbance. Still, there weren't many who would bother him while he lurked in his chambers. And they only for something important.

Crossing the sitting chamber to the heavy wooden door, he took hold of the heavily ornate handle and pulled. Bryce Cartwright stood in the hallway outside. With him were two breathtakingly beautiful women, one a redhead, the other a brunette. Before Leofrick could recover from the surprise the sight of the trio instilled in him, Bryce barged into the sitting chamber, escorting the women in with him. The moment all three were inside, Bryce closed the door.

"Bryce-"

"Begging your pardon, my Prince, but please wait." Bryce turned to the women. "Maerwynn? Gussalen? The bedchamber, if you'd be so kind?"

The women shot Leofrick flirtatious glances as they followed Bryce's request. Once they were out of sight, Bryce turned to Leofrick, grinning so broadly that his expression reshaped the bushy red beard on his face.

"Bryce, what is this?"

As Bryce spoke, he strolled leisurely in the direction of Leofrick's bedchamber. "What is this, my Prince? This is your personal guard and, I hope, your friend bringing you a gift."

"What gift?"

Bryce stepped into the bedchamber. Leofrick followed, stopping just over the threshold, staring at the pair of women. Both were removing their clothing, standing half undressed by his large bed. Both ladies turned their fullest attention upon him as they continued removing their clothing. Their expressions were no longer simply flirtatious. Now, both women gazed at him with looks of open, wanton lust.

"Bryce...no..." Leofrick said.

His personal guard crossed to Maerwynn and Gussalen, taking no apparent notice of their youthful loveliness or the increasing amounts of delectable, flawless flesh they were exposing.

"This divine creature," Bryce said, indicating the brunette, "is Gussalen. The angelic redhead is Maerwynn. Mouth-wateringly gorgeous, are they not?"

"Yes," Leofrick said, unable to hide his admiration of the vision before him.

Maerwynn's hair was fiery red, falling in lustrous waves down her back and over her shoulders. Her skin was creamy and smooth, flawless and unblemished. Her lips were painted a seductive shade of red and her green eyes sparkled as she watched him while she removed the final pieces of her clothing to stand unabashedly naked before him, putting herself on open display. Her nipples were small and pink, already hardening into fleshy nubs of arousal. Her pubis was smooth, devoid of hair. When the Prince gasped slightly at the realization, Maerwynn's expression became one of beatific delight.

"You like it?" she asked, her voice soft and melodic. As she spoke, she brushed her sex lightly and parted herself, showing him moist, pink flesh. "Bryce asked Gussalen and I to remove all our body hair before we came to see you."

Leofrick nodded. "I do like it, yes. Very much." As he spoke, his gaze shifted to Gussalen and he saw that she, too, had removed all traces of hair from her body.

The brunette, though still lovely beyond any words Leofrick knew, was the redhead's parallel opposite. Where Maerwynn's flesh was pale, Gussalen's was several shades darker, as if she sported a full-body, all-over tan bereft of tan lines. Like her companion's, Gussalen's skin appeared velvety and faultless. The brunette's breasts, though slightly larger than her friend's, could still be classified as small, and her nipples were bigger and several shades darker. Gussalen followed Maerwynn's example of touching her silky, smooth pubis before parting it for him, revealing delicate pink flesh, already moist with excitement.

Leofrick shook himself, trying to ignore the naked beauties standing by his bed and his rapidly hardening erection. With great effort, he turned his attention back to his personal guard.

"Bryce, what's the meaning of this?"

The other man motioned to the ladies as he said, "I've spoken with your father. He, in turn, spoke with your mother. They don't think your obsession over this mystery woman is healthy. I suggested that if I brought a woman to your chambers you may be enticed into forgetting the mystery woman. Your father liked the idea, but suggested two ladies. And here they are, yours to enjoy the whole night long."

The Prince felt anger rising. "Bryce...I don't believe you. I'm not going to have sex with these two just so I can forget another woman!"

"You have to admit that they're very lovely."

"Yes, that they are." As he spoke, Leofrick's gaze was drawn inexorably back to the two women who stood by his bed, awaiting him.

Bryce continued, saying, "And both your parents think it's high time you were married. Many in the kingdom feel the same way."

"I'll marry when I'm ready and not before."

"You admitted to me just yesterday, my Prince, that you fully enjoy the company of a woman in your bed."

"Yes." His attention was still fixed on the women. Lovely as Gussalen was, however, his attention was most commanded by Maerwynn. The only woman he had ever seen who was as lovely as she was the mystery woman he sought.

"That's all this is," Bryce went on. "But rather than one woman, tonight you shall share your bed with two."

"No. I can't."

Bryce sagged and moved closer to the women, restraining himself from touching them, though it was now openly obvious that he wanted to do nothing else. Struggling visibly with his own urges in the presence of the women, he said, "I'm sorry, my Prince. But your father wants this. He is King. You are Prince. His wishes overrule your own. I was commanded to bring Gussalen and Maerwynn to you and so I have. They, in turn, have been commanded to spend the night here, in your chambers. And so they shall."

Leofrick sighed, knowing that no further argument was going to be of use. "Alright. Fine. My father wants them to stay, they stay. As you said, his wishes take precedence my own. They stay. But have them put their clothes back on. Then you get out. I'm trying to think and I can't with all these distractions!"

Bryce, still visibly struggling not to give in to his urge to touch the perfect flesh before him, said, "Think later, my Prince. It's time now for other activities. As for me leaving, I'm afraid I cannot."

Leofrick gave him a suspicious look. "Why not? More of my father's orders?"

"I'm afraid so. He suspected you might baulk at this plan. He has ordered me to remain for the night, too, and ensure that you and your female guests fully enjoy yourselves."

"So I'm to have sex with them while you sit and watch? Is that it? You're to watch us so that, tomorrow, you can report back to my father that, yes, I did indeed have sex with these women?"

"No. He said nothing about watching. Only that I was to stay and make sure it happened."

Bryce gestured to Maerwynn and Gussalen. The redhead and the brunette moved to Leofrick's side with small, measured steps, willowy legs graceful, slender hips moving enticingly. One on each side of him, they began to touch him, running dainty hands over his flat stomach and broad chest, making soft sounds of appreciation as they felt the lean, sculpted muscle beneath the clothing they caressed.

"Stop," Leofrick said softly. When they ignored the command, he repeated it, more loudly and tried to pull away from them. "Stop!"

"It's no use, my Prince," Bryce said. He watched Leofrick and the women intently, his expression that of a starving man forced to witness a magnificent feast while being told he cannot help himself to the smallest crumb. "Your father has commanded that they do not stop."

Unable to help himself, Leofrick swore, cursing his father's interference in his life. For good measure, he added curses about his mother's and Bryce's own meddling.

It's no use. My father, the King, has spoken. I can either fight and argue all night long, or...

Before the thought was complete, Leofrick closed his eyes and tilted back his head. The feel of the four small hands stroking his body and hair felt good. Their touch was light, loving, holding the promise of much more to come. Anticipation of what would soon happen caused his cock to swell painfully inside his pants, straining for freedom. He inhaled deeply, aware for the first time of the intoxicating fragrances worn by the ladies.

He angled his head, making eye contact with the redhead. Her emerald gaze burned with passion as she stared back.

"Maerwynn, is it?" he asked, voice husky with desire.

"Yes, my Prince," she demurred, voice at odds with the smoldering lust in her gaze.

He pressed his mouth to her own, kissing her deeply and hard. Her lips parted and he slid his tongue into her mouth, dueling with her own tongue, tasting her. When he finally broke the kiss, both where gasping for breath.

"Maerwynn...you taste as good as you look and smell."

She spoke as she slid a hand down his stomach to fondle his erection through his pants. "Thank you, my Prince."

He kissed her again, more briefly but with no less passion. "Forget titles and propriety. They have no place here. Not tonight."

Maerwynn's sly, seductive grin was all the answer he needed. He turned his attention to the brunette.

"The same goes for you...Gussalen, right?"

"Yes." Her voice was smooth and rich.

Leofrick met her impassioned gaze, staring into her brown eyes for a long moment before pressing his lips against hers. She kissed him back, the exchange ardent and heated, tongues slipping from her mouth to his and back, darting, caressing. One of her hands joined Maerwynn's on his crotch, squeezing lightly, milking his erection through the fabric of his pants. He gasped, pulling his lips from hers, trying to catch his breath. Her expression pledged ribald pleasure the likes of which he had never known.

Still holding the exotic brunette's gaze while both ladies fondled him, Leofrick called to his guard. "Bryce?"

"Yes, my Prince?" His tone was hoarse, strained.

"Look at these two!"

"I see them."

"You were right, Bryce. They are exceptional."

"I'm glad you think I chose well, my Prince."

"What I said to the ladies about no titles or propriety here tonight goes for you, too. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Now, the way I see it, no man, no matter how virile, is going to be able to keep up with both of these gorgeous creatures all night long. I'm afraid I'm going to need your help."

Bryce's words hitched as he tried to reply. "I'm s-sorry. What?"

Leofrick laughed, shifting his attention from Gussalen back to Maerwynn, wrapping an arm around each of the women, holding them tightly against him. The feel of their hardened nipples and hot flesh was clear even through his clothing.




Lovers' Veil



"What I mean, Bryce, is that you got me into this. Now, I expect you to help me out. All night. Understand?"

"I th-think so." The other man's words caught again, his tone thick with desire.

"Good," Leofrick said. "Then get out of your clothes and start helping, man!"

"Yes, my Prince...my friend!"

Barely noticed, Bryce began to unlace the front of his shirt, struggling out of his clothing. As he did so, Maerwynn and Gussalen set to work on Leofrick's own apparel, unlacing bindings and releasing catches and buckles, peeling off his clothing as quickly as they could. Both women gasped in delight as the Prince's throbbing erection was exposed to their sight.

Instantly, both woman wrapped a hand each around his thick, heavy shaft and began to lightly stroke it. Leofrick gasped at their touch, all other thoughts forgotten, giving himself over to the whims of the moment and whatever amorous plans the ladies had in mind for him that night.

Not trying to fight the desire-induced fog that the ladies' touch put him in, Leofrick allowed them to lead him to the bed and lay him down. Long fingernails raked slowly over his heated flesh, taunting him, arousing him further. Maerwynn bent forward, allowing her fiery hair to tickle him, feather-light touches combining with the delicate pressure of the ladies' fingernails to send him into a convulsion of pleasurable squirming.

Gussalen kissed his lips and worked her way down his fevered body. Her soft, full mouth barely touched him, the contact light and gentle. Maerwynn took a turn kissing his lips and followed the trail blazed by her friend, working down his body. Both paused to suckle his nipples for a long while before continuing on. Leofrick raised his hands, rubbing their backs lightly, silently urging them on.

A small whimper of barely contained lust broke into Leofrick's thoughts. He forced his mind to draw back from the edge of ecstasy and turned just enough to see Bryce. The other man stood a few feet away, nude, fully erect. The tip of his cock was swollen and purple, a thin stream of clear fluid drooling from the satiny tip that peeked from his foreskin. Thickly curled red chest hair all but hid his nipples, but enough of them could be seen peeking out to further attest to his level of excitement.

"Come on, Bryce," Leofrick said, forcing himself to focus enough to speak. "I told you to help me with them."

Not looking away, nor even blinking, the other man said, "Not just yet. They were brought for you to enjoy. After they've pleasured you and you've returned the favor once for each of them I'll join you. Your needs should be taken care of first. But..."

"Yes, Bryce?"

"Hurry. Please?"

Leofrick laughed loudly and guided Maerwynn to mount him. As the redhead settled onto his cock, the brunette slid further up beside him, kissing his chest. The duel sensations of Gussalen's lips on his nipple and Maerwynn's fiercely hot, sopping love canal gripping him tightly nearly sent him over the edge in an instant. The struggle to maintain control was made even harder a moment later when Gussalen rose up and squatted over his face, pulling her delicate folds open, silently begging him to taste her.

Unable to help himself, Leofrick slowly bucked his hips, easing deeper into Maerwynn as she moaned softly, swiveling her narrow hips in small, tight circles. His tongue touched Gussalen's drenched womanhood, tasting her musky liquid. He drank her in flavor and scent, relishing both. The brunette squirmed as he flicked his tongue over her sex and her anus. Her excitement fed his own and he moved his hips faster, feeding Maerwynn's arousal. Gussalen's aromatic juice ran over his tongue as he pleasured her, her heat steady on his mouth.

His view blocked by Gussalen's thigh and pubis, he was unable to see just what the women were doing to each other. Yet he could clearly hear the alluring noises of soft kisses being exchanged.

Maerwynn's faint moans abruptly turned louder, her breath hitching. Leofrick lifted his hands, grasping her lean waist as she climaxed. Maerwynn shrieked boisterously as her love canal clenched tightly on his hard shaft, milking him. The Prince fought for control, forcing himself not to climax yet. Maerwynn's dainty hands played over his chest, her long fingernails flicking over his nipples. Leofrick gave up pleasuring Gussalen for the moment, gritting his teeth with his effort not to give in to Maerwynn's ministrations.

"Come on," the exquisite redhead whispered to him as she worked her hips back and forth in a series of brief, quick motions, clenching his shaft tightly with her sweltering love tunnel. "Come on... I want to feel you explode inside of me..."

Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, the lithesome brunette rose up, pulling her dripping sex from his face.

Gussalen laughed merrily, saying, "Move over, Maerwynn! It's my turn. Let's me show you how it's done!"

Reluctantly, Maerwynn rose, letting the Prince's heavy cock slide free of her body. It glistened wetly with her secretions. She paused, stroking the swollen purple head, toying with his foreskin.

As Gussalen took the redhead's place, settling onto him, guiding his pulsing shaft into her searing, sopping love canal, Maerwynn moved to Leofrick's head and squatted as her companion had done. She placed her drenched sex just above his mouth.

Trying to ignore the sensations Gussalen elicited as she raised and lowered herself on his shaft slowly, over and over, Leofrick reached up to part Maerwynn dripping petals, exposing the shining pink flesh within. The moment the tip of his tongue touched her, the redhead's hips squirmed. She moaned softly. Moments later, he heard the tender sounds of soft kisses from above him once more.

Gussalen climaxed mere moments later, her lean body going rigid, hips working furiously. Hot, fragrant liquid spilled from her, drenching Leofrick. He groaned, his lips locked on Maerwynn's clitoris, sucking softly. The redhead's own body stiffened as a second climax tore through her. She screamed loudly, voicing her pleasure and lust. Gussalen joined her, their voices high and resounding.

The ladies dismounted Leofrick, one lying to each side of him on the bed. They cuddled close, pressing soft, heated flesh against his own. Leofrick kissed Gussalen tenderly, then did the same to Maerwynn.

"You haven't climaxed yet," Maerwynn pouted. "Don't we excite you?"

"Our Prince," whispered Gussalen, taking a light hold of his rigid cock, "has a reputation for being able to please a lady very well. I can see how he earned it."

Leofrick sighed as Maerwynn's hand joined Gussalen's on his brawny shaft.

"Bryce? Join us," the Prince said, raising up just enough to see his personal guard over the redhead's bare shoulder.

The larger man still stood as before, tense with excitement. His own sturdy erection bobbed quickly in time with his pulse, drooling a steady flow of liquid arousal.

"Not yet," he said, voice heavy with desire. "As I said, you must be taken care of first."

"Bryce...no proprieties here tonight. Okay? Get over here."

"After you have finished once, I will, most definitely. But until then, these gorgeous ladies belong only to you."

"Is that my father's command, too?"

"No," Bryce said. "Merely the way it should be."

Leofrick gave passing thought to arguing with the other man, then gave in.

"So be it. Have it your own way," he told him instead.

I'm so close to climax as it is that it won't take long. And it'll feel a lot better than quarrelling.

"Ladies," he whispered as he lay flat once more, situating himself between the two, "my friend refuses all invitations to join our fun until I've finished once. Would you like for Bryce to join us?"

Both women shot impassioned, flirtatious glances at Bryce and made small sounds of acknowledgment.

"Well then" he went on, "you know what needs to be done."

While the redhead instantly turned her full attention back to Leofrick, lightly suckling one of his nipples as she stroked his meaty shaft, Gussalen's awareness lingered on Bryce. She lightly licked her sensuous lips with the very tip of her tongue, eyes smoldering with wanton lust. Bryce nearly choked, stammering, fighting to restrain himself.

Maerwynn leaned over the Prince's reclined body, trailing her long, luxurious hair over his stomach, and whispered something in Gussalen's ear. The dark brunette looked down at Leofrick and giggled, nodding.

Maerwynn drew back slightly, giving Gussalen more room. Each of them took the nipple nearest them and set to work, licking and suckling. As their sumptuous lips worked at his chest, each kept a hand busy further down. One lightly stroked his shaft while the other kneaded his sac tenderly. Every few moments, the hands would change places. All the while, supple lips and dexterous tongues labored on his nipples. Each touch sent waves of mind-numbing pleasure washing through him. He closed his eyes, giving himself over to the stroking and the breathtaking sensations.

Leofrick's orgasm ripped through him moments later. His body went ridged and he groaned loudly, gritting his teeth. His hands came up, pressing on the backs of the women's heads, keeping their mouths on his chest. His molten seed surged through his erection, the feelings overwhelming him. He bellowed with joy as he felt Maerwynn's small hand jerk him faster and faster, coaxing every possible drop from him.

He lay there afterward, silent, holding the women to him, catching his breath. When he was breathing normally once more, he kissed Maerwynn passionately, then did the same to Gussalen.

"Ladies... You are both magnificent. I apologize for my earlier rudeness. My father's commands aside, I welcome you both."

The brunette trailed her fingers over his broad chest, toying with the hair there. "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," the redhead said, slipping one lithe leg over his, rubbing her heel slowly up and down his calf.

Leofrick raised himself up just enough to see Bryce again. "Satisfied?"

Bryce nodded, apparently unable to speak. His gaze was fixed firmly on Gussalen.

"Good," Leofrick said. "Then what are you still waiting for? Get over here and help me with these fine ladies."

The heavier, stockier man nearly leapt at the bed. Laughing merrily, Gussalen grabbed him and rolled with him to the foot of the bed, wrapping her svelte body around him. Bryce was so large that he dwarfed the petite woman. Yet Leofrick knew that his guard would be nothing but gentle.

Maerwynn slid over and lay atop Leofrick, pressing her small bosom to his chest. He kissed her, sucking lightly on her lower lip. When the kiss ended, she lay her head on his shoulder, mouth close to his ear. When she spoke, her breath was warm and soft.

"You are a very talented lover, my Prince."

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her small form firmly against him. "So are you, Maerwynn. And what do I keep saying about formalities here tonight?"

"But calling you by name would be too familiar."

He craned his neck to kiss her jaw. "We've just had sex. We're lying on my bed, naked, and I fully intend to make have sex with you again in a few moments. I'd say we're familiar."

She grinned. Though he couldn't see her expression, he could feel the shifting of her lips and cheek against his neck and shoulder. "So we are."

From the foot of the bed came a delighted shriek from Gussalen, followed by the low murmur of Bryce's voice. Leofrick lifted his head enough to see that the brunette was lying across the foot of the bed, while Bryce stood between her splayed thighs, his enormous cock sliding in and out of her dripping sex in a slow, measured rhythm. Gussalen wrapped her slender legs around his waist and toyed with her own nipples, squirming in ecstasy as her burning gaze locked with her lover's.

The sight combined with the feel of Maerwynn's silky, fiery flesh on his body caused Leofrick's own shaft to lengthen and harden once again.

Maerwynn's smile grew larger as she propped herself up, staring down at him with green eyes that blazed with heat and lust. He lifted his hands to caress her, then gently turned her over, depositing her onto her back. He kissed her mouth, his tongue exploring hers, then worked his way down her trim form, kissing here and there. He paid extra attention to the tight pink buds of her nipples, causing her to moan softly.

Reaching her pubis, he eased her thighs apart and set to work, tasting and touching, licking and suckling. She convulsed soon, her legs clamping tightly around his head. Her fevered shrieks of primal bliss accompanied a gush of musky fluid that Leofrick welcomed with an open mouth and eager tongue.

When she had calmed slightly, Leofrick slid from the bed and stood, easing the gorgeous redhead toward him. She said nothing, her expression of unsated lust giving eloquent testimony to her feelings and thoughts.

The Prince slid his heavy erection into her dripping sex, sighing his pleasure as her molten tunnel gripped him tightly. He started slowly, gradually working himself to a faster rhythm and harder thrusts. His gaze locked with Maerwynn's, each holding the other's eyes impassionedly. Leofrick wet his thumb with her honey and massaged her clitoris. The demure redhead writhed, voicing her pleasure with a series of short, enticing noises, her expression becoming one of ardent, almost painful, adore.

The sight of her, the smell of her arousal, the feel of her, all combined to push Leofrick over the edge far sooner than he had planned. Maerwynn's own body reacted to his, their orgasms coupling, twining together, each feeding on the other. Leofrick bellowed with joy as Maerwynn shrieked, her head thrashing from side to side.

Leofrick burst inside of her, pumping her full of his hot seed. Maerwynn screamed again, her slight hips bucking with unbridled zeal.

Spent and exhausted, Leofrick let himself fall forward, his cock still snug inside his lover. He braced himself with his arms so as not to put too much of his weight on Maerwynn. He kissed her, the embrace urgent and needful.

A warm chuckle from beside him made him lift his head. Bryce stood there, still between Gussalen's spread legs. They had finished their own round of lovemaking. The brunette was gently kneading the big man's testicle sac. He, in turn, had her stiffened clitoris between two fingers and was massaging it softly. His touch kept Gussalen writhing with need.

"What's so funny, Bryce?" Leofrick asked.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"I am indeed. You?"

The other man glanced down at Gussalen, who was staring up at him with an expression of dire want. "With ladies as perfect and entertaining as these, how can I not?"

"So what's so funny?"

"You look spent," Bryce said. "Don't relax too much. It's not even dark yet. We have all night still to go."

Chapter 6

Princess Rhyannon Ensorcelledlight stood in her bedchamber, exhausted after hours of seeking a way out of her rooms. Since her father had ordered her locked away at Leurre's urging both ways out had been locked tight. Her father had given commands that her windows should remained sealed at all times and her door only opened to allow staff in and out to bring her food and clean. She, herself, was to remain within her rooms at all times until Samhain night. She would then be escorted out of the castle to partake in the full moon ceremony and the wedding to Leurre. Afterward, she and her new husband would be escorted, under guard, back these rooms for their wedding night. Leurre was leaving her with little choice. She was faced with either marrying the wretched changeling or taking her own life. She would not, she told herself yet again, do the former under any circumstances. Yet reluctance to do the latter filled her with tearing despair.

So I sit here for months, biding my time, hoping and praying for a way out. If none presents itself, I shall take my own life on the eve of Samhain.

Fatigued, she sat on her bed, trying to push all thoughts from her mind. Several minutes went by and she lifted her gaze from the rug-covered stone floor to the standing mirror in its ornate frame. Staring at her reflection, trying to keep from feeling sorry for herself or allowing self-pitying thoughts to creep into her mind, she began to pray.

As before, she prayed to her patron goddess for release. She prayed for a lazy or sloppy servant to leave the door open, for someone to take her side and help her orchestrate an escape, anything just so long as she was set free.

Long minutes went by. Gradually, her weariness overcame her. She broke off her despondent appeals and lay down. She didn't bother to unwrap the length of gossamer silk from her body; it was so light and airy that she was next to nude even with it on. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

However, she found her thoughts drifting, as always, back to the mysterious human man who had spied upon her as she bathed in the clearing.

How could he have peered through the Veil? she wondered for the millionth time.

Still lying on the posh, lavish quilts, she returned to her prayers. Now, though, she prayed for the human to come to her. She focused her entire mind and spirit on her need for him. She not only wanted to see him again, but wanted for him to be the means of her rescue from the home that had become her prison.

Drawn by an inexplicable urge, she sat up, still reciting her petition silently, her lips moving soundlessly. Barely aware of her actions, she scooted to the foot of her bed and sat, focusing on the mirror once more. Eventually, her vision blurred. She did not blink, but stared ahead, as if in a trance, voicelessly praying to her goddess.

She wasn't sure when it happened, but she slowly grew aware of the fact that the image in the mirror had changed. She was still seeing the reflection of her own bedchamber. Only the décor she saw in the mirror was different, masculine. In the mirror image, the bed was covered by darker colored quilts and she was not on it. Instead, she now saw the human she prayed for. He was accompanied by another, larger, man with thick red hair. Both men were in the company of a different woman. All four humans were naked.

The man she sought was wrapped tightly in the arms and legs of a diminutive redhead as he made love to her. The other man knelt behind a second small woman with darker skin and hair. She was on her hands and knees and he held her slim hips as he thrust his manhood quickly in and out of her glistening sex. No sound reached her, only the image, blurred by her unfocused vision.

As Rhyannon watched, both men climaxed. Soon after, the women stood, running their hands over the flushed skin of their lovers, sinking to the floor with them. Partners were changed and more lovemaking began. Now, her human slid his swarthy shaft into the brunette while the other man copulated with the redhead. The women squirmed closer together and shared deep, sensuous kisses with each other as the men labored.

After a time, the women drew away from the men, turned, and took their lovers' thick shafts into their mouths, sucking. Rhyannon could see the cheeks of both women hollowing as they pleased the men. And please them they were. She could plainly see the bliss and joy written in the expressions and body language of both men.

She blinked and the image was gone. The princess found herself looking at the image of her own bedchamber in the mirror. In the reflection, she sat upon her own bed. After a moment, she realized that her breath had quickened. She watched the mirror, hoping for, yet dreading, another vision.

Seeing the man again sent a thrill through her. The fact that he had been naked elated her even more. But that he had been engaged is such activities with another woman - two other women! - sent a pang of sadness through her. She shook her head, forcing herself to think more clearly.