Keys to the Kingdom

by Fiona Wilde

  "Help! Help!" Angelica burst from the doorway and ran to the safest place she could think of - Lenora's suite. Lenora would know what to do. Lenora always knew what to do.

  She burst through the door as soon as Lenora opened it and slammed it just as rapidly, fixing the lock and pushing her back up against it.

  "Help me!" she cried. "He's gone mad!"

  "Who's gone mad?" Prince Kier entered the room, his expression suspicious.

  "Your brother!" she cried. "He...he..." She looked around, struggling for a new lie.

  "He became angry when I refused to serve him and threatened to beat me! He went wild, throwing things, yelling insults!!"

  Kier knew his brother Quentin and knew what Angelica described could not be true.

  He walked over and, taking her shoulder, pushed her out of the way just as the first banging on the door came from outside.

  "Don't!" she cried as he pushed her to Lenora, but Kier ignored her.

  Both the eldest son of Salazar and the eldest daughter of Randor gasped as they laid eyes upon Prince Quentin.

  His face was puffy from the welts now and his hands were everywhere as he frantically dug at his clothes to relieve the unbearable itching.

  "What on earth happened?" Kier asked.

  "She...she..." He could not even speak as he continued to scratch while pointing at Angelica with the other hand.

  Lenora sighed. "Angelica, how could you?"

  The third-born daughter of Randor looked at the ground, suppressing a giggle.

  "Sit down, Quentin," Lenora instructed. "I'll fix you and antidote."

  "There's an antidote?"

  "Of course," Lenora said. "I recognize itch-flower lesions anywhere. It was Luna who discovered it and we all suffered its effects one time or another. I had thought if this happened to anyone it would be poor Ivan. But I shouldn't I have put it past Angelica. Liars also make good pranksters."

  She glanced at Kier. "Would you please take Angelica out for a bit?"

  Kier looked down at the girl, scowling. "Gladly." He took her arm. "Come, Angelica."

  "Where are you taking me?" she asked as they were back in the hallway.

  "To your suite," he said. "You and I are going to have a little talk."

  "I have nothing to say to you," she said.

  "Well I have plenty of things to say to you," he said. When they reached her room he pushed her roughly inside and slammed the door. Angelica backed away as Kier advanced on her. This was certainly more than she bargained for.

  "Are you aware that your little trick could have seriously injured or hurt my brother?" he asked, his voice steely with anger. "We had a servant once who suffered ill effects from such an herb. Only there was no antidote to be found in time. The swelling went beyond his skin. His tongue swelled, then his throat. He died, Angelica."

  Angelica shook her head. "I'd never hurt anyone!" she said. "Not like that!"

  "You might not know until it's too late," he said. "Such risks are not to be tolerated, Princess. And I mean to impress upon you this instant that they will not be."

  Kier grabbed her and sat down, pulling the wildly struggling girl across his lap. Angelica cried out, fearful, for Kier was the largest and strongest of the princes. He had no problem subduing the fiery girl with minimal effort.

  The elder prince flipped up the outer gown but not the under dress. This was, after all, to be his brother's wife.

  But the spanking he delivered hurt just the same, the force of the blows more than sufficient to penetrate to flimsy layers of fabric. Within moments Angelica was bawling hysterically as the heat in her bottom built to a burning, intolerable pain.

  "Please stop!" she cried, and after a few more well-placed swats he did. For Kier did not want to outdo what he knew his brother would shortly have to do. Provided of course, his brother was recovered enough to do so.

  Angelical would have been even more fearful to know that was why Kier had stopped, and twice as fearful to know that Quentin was indeed making a full recovery down the hall.

  "Better?" Lenora asked.

  Quentin nodded. "I feel like a fool. How can I ever make her respect me if she fools me so easily?"

  "Don't believe her lies," Lenora said.

  He gave a sad smile. "How can I love a woman who lies?"

  Now Lenora sighed and shook her head. "That is something you will need to ask my sister," he said. "Let her know there are consequences, Quentin. Your brother has taught me that it is time to grow up and put these games of our aside. You must teach Angelica the same thing. Let her know that your trust and respect are not gifts to be given, but treasures to be earned."

  "You are right," he said, standing. The welts on his face were nearly gone now.

  He looked at Lenora. "You know this means I shall have to spank her."

  Lenora shrugged. "She deserves it. What she did to you was wrong. Having suffered the effects of the itch-flower I know how excruciating it can be. And I do not believe the dose I ingested was nearly as large as what she managed to get in you."

  He raised Lenora's hand to his lips. "Thank you," he said. "For everything."

  She laughed lightly. "Do not thank me yet, third son of Salazar. You've yet to master my lying sister."

  He turned and walked from the room, meeting his brother in the hallway as he did.

  "You look better," Kier said.

  "Lenora gave me an antidote - a herb she and her sister often used to reverse the effects of the draught."

  "Well, she should beg your forgiveness, brother," Kier said. "As should I."

  "You?" Quentin fixed his brother with a puzzled look. "Why ever for?"

  "I spanked Angelica," he said. "I felt the matter warranted immediate consequence and given your state I feared you would not be up to the task. However now that I see you are I am relieved that I did not give her the full measure of what she deserved. For that is your right."

  Quentin glanced towards the suite where Angelica waited. "Right and responsibility," he said. "I shall not live in fear of her lying tongue, or have her pass on deceitful ways to our children. That is a lesson she should learn and learn immediately."

  Kier nodded, liking what he heard.

  "I shall leave you to your woman, then," he said.

  "Aye," Quentin said. "Pray she leaves this experience as wise as her eldest sister."

  Kier placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder before leaving Quentin to stride purposefully to the door. He pushed it open purposefully and was pleased to see Angelica look at him with a flit of apprehension in her red-rimmed eyes.

  "Your brother is a brute," she pouted.

  "No," Quentin said. "My brother was charitable and reserved. I, however, having been the target of your malicious lie, am feeling decidedly brutish."

  He began to roll up his sleeves. "Shall I tell you what happens to little girls who lie?"

  Angelica stood, gasping, her hands flying protectively behind her.

  "I am no little girl," she said, her voice quavering with uncertainty as Quentin approached. Even though he was half a head shorter than Kier and not quite as broad through the shoulders, his arms were well-muscled. Angelica had never noticed before how strong he looked. Now she did and she was suddenly very, very afraid.

  In a burst of speed she made to move past him, but he caught her around her small waist.

  "My brother tells me he reddened your bottom," he said. "However, instinct tells me he did not go far enough to curb your willful nature."

  "He did! He did!" Angelica whined as he turned her to face him.

  He looked down at her. "Ruthless girl," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Do you know how frightened I was when I thought you were truly ill? I drank that draught trusting you, Angelica. For what will any relationship be without trust?"

  She looked away now, hot tears of shame stinging her eyes.

  "Is this how you are, then? A squanderer of others' goodwill and intentions? Are you in such a rush t
o grow old with such ugliness? For do not think that cruelty within does not work its way to the surface in short order? Keep it up, fair princess, and one day you will look into the mirror to see a face as ugly as your heart. And if you do I hope you look back and remember it all began when you tricked a man who only sought to save you."

  He pushed her away from him and Angelica stood there. This was not what she expected. Her face burned with humiliation and hurt. And yet, try as she might, she could not find words with which to counter what he had just said.

  "I concede it was a silly thing to do," she said quietly.

  "Silly?" He turned to look at her, his face incredulous.

  "Very well," she said. "It was worse than silly. It was mean-spirited and hurtful..."

  "...and potentially dangerous," he added. "What makes one itch severely can kill another."

  "I did not mean to make you so upset," she said.

  "But you have, Angelica," he said quietly. "And as I mean to marry you I would impress up on you the importance of halting your lying tongue."

  He walked over and grabbed her wrist. This time, Angelica did not fight.

  "I will not have a snake in my house."

  She whimpered as he sat down and pulled her across his lap.

  "Please, my prince, no!" she cried out. "Your brother already.."

  But he'd already bared her bottom and was shaking his head at the light blush he saw on the smooth skin.

  "...gave you a very slight taste of what is owed, Angelica. I am about to give you the full measure."

  She was not prepared for the pain of this spanking. His hand, hard from years of riding, jousting and working -for this was no idle prince - impacted her already tender bottom with a resounding smack that instantly set her to kicking her legs in protest.

  "Och!" she cried. "My Lord! No! It hurts!"

  He ignored her, targeting the middle of her bottom and spanking first one taught, springy cheek and then another in rapid succession until they were as read as the holly berries in the garden. Then his hand moved lower to pepper the underside of her buttocks and the tops of her thighs with rapid, stinging spanks.

  Angelica went from cursing him to cursing herself, for she knew he was intent on doling out the same portion of discomfort she had caused him. And she could do nothing but accept her lot as her mouth poured forth with plaintive bawls and tears ran in rivulets down her fair face to puddle underneath her on the floor.

  She begged, she pleaded, she promised him anything and everything if he would only stop. But Prince Quentin ignored her and only ceased when her bottom bore a criss-cross pattern of handprints and blooming bruises.

  Angelica had so exhausted herself from struggling that she had no more fight in her, and as she lay there limp and sobbing it occurred to her that along with the pain had come a sort of cleansing. Quentin had spanked her not into just physical, but emotional submission. She felt ashamed, but also necessarily corrected for what she'd done to bring on that shame.

  "Quentin, I'm a fool," she sobbed, and he gently sat her up and cradled her in his lap.

  "You're foolish," he corrected. "That is not a fool. Fool's never learn and I believe you have."

  "You don't hate me then?" she sniffed.

  He pushed the sodden hair from her face and shook his head. "No, my pet," he said. "I quite like you, actually. I would like to love you, should I be given the opportunity."

  She considered this and tried not to reveal what she felt, which was a leap of her heart. Quentin was handsome. And strong. He was, she knew, what he needed.

  "My sisters might not like it," she said.

  "How do you know that they are already not falling in love with my brothers?" he asked. "How silly would you feel to find you were the only one who resisted love? The only one to deny herself what they had found?"

  She thought about this.

  "It is permissible, you know, to make your own decisions away from your sisters," he said. "For instance, do you need their permission to do this?"

  He kissed her gently, softly.

  "No," she said. "Do it again."

  He smiled and repeated the kiss, this time gently parting her lips until his tongue could creep in and caress hers. She moaned.

  "I could do more," he said. "But if you'd rather wait and ask your sisters first...."

  She wound her arms around his neck and suddenly everything was forgotten - the prank, the spanking, the anger. Angelica wanted more of this, more of him.

  But he gently pushed her away. "We must wait," he said, as much disappointment in his voice as was in her eyes. "Your honor..."

  "Hang my honor," she said, but he shook his head.

  "I will honor your virtue," he said. "Even if you won't."

  He laughed at her seductive little pout. For a virgin, the young princess had excellent instincts. She had no way of knowing that he wanted to ravage her right then and there.

  "But take heart," he said. "There will be time soon enough for us to explore on another in the marriage bed."

  She smiled. "Provided you woo me accordingly," she said.

  "I will certainly try," Quentin said as he smiled back and noted that while she'd not given him a full surrender, Angelica had certainly not said 'no.'

  Chapter Seven

  Luna and Ivan

  Princess Luna stood looking out the window, her pretty face wearing a scowl that would have diminished the looks of any other woman. However, on the face of a princess even a scowl looks pretty.

  From his vantage point in a nearby chair, Prince Ivan made this very observation. Like her sisters, Luna was a vision of loveliness. But he would not tell her this. Not now.

  "Firmness," he reminded himself. "What this lass needs is firmness. Compliments and pleasantries can come later, after she is tamed and brought to heel."

  He smiled, proud of himself. Kier, his eldest brother, would be proud of how well he was handling himself in the face of Princess Luna's sullenness. Since they'd arrived in their quarters, she'd neither looked at nor spoken to him. Prince Ivan supposed she was doing this to manipulate him.

  But it would not work, he thought. No, not on him. Let the princess try whatever she pleased - tantrums, silent treatment, pleading - he would let her know regardless that he was in charge.

  "I'm hungry."

  Prince Ivan jumped, surprised to hear her finally speak to him. And especially surprised that she would confess to being hungry. Most ladies ate like birds in front of gentleman and pretended not to want food in their presence, even if they secretly pined for it.

  "Hungry?"

  She smiled. It was a pleasant smile and Prince Ivan - poor thing - was too enchanted by the sign to assign any motive to this sudden pleasantness.

  "Yes," she said, and then walked over, waving her hand before her as if brushing away the silence that had hung between them.

  "It seems silly to fret, given that I can do nothing about my situation. I've thought and thought of ways to get out of it and all I've done is make myself hungry."

  She looked at him. "Are you hungry?"

  Prince Ivan, like most men, was always hungry. But he was leery of the beautiful princess who now faced him with such a casual demeanor. He'd been warned to be ready for anything from the mischievous he hoped to take to wife. Could it really be this easy? Could Princess Luna really be giving up without a fight? It seemed to good to be true. And if there were food involved, well it seemed even better.

  "Caution," a voice said to him, and he stepped back as he affected what he hoped was an aloof look.

  "I'm not sure if I can allow that at the moment," he said. "You've not yet convinced me I can trust you."

  "Trust me?" she asked. "To eat? How can I convince you that I can be trusted to eat?"

  "No," he said. "Not trusted to eat... That's not what I meant."

  She raised an eyebrow at him. "What then?"

  "To behave," he said.

  "To behave when?" she asked. "When I'm eating? Are yo
u afraid I'm going to throw food at you?"

  "Well, no. Of course not. I mean. Well, maybe... " Prince Ivan was stammering now as he tried to make sense of his own hesitancy. Just what was he afraid of?

  "We aren't leaving the room," he finally said, his words coming at her in a rush. There. If her plan was to get out and escape then he'd thwarted it. But she remained completely calm.

  Instead she shrugged.

  "Who wants to? I'm used to having my meals brought to me, anyway."

  Prince Ivan felt his hope take another small leap. The girl seemed calm and positively resigned to her situation. Could it be that he'd gotten the one reasonable princess? He smiled to himself, imagining how he could use this to his advantage by presenting his docile, agreeable mate to his brothers. They would be impressed, especially when he privately told them how difficult Luna had been, and how he had tamed her through sheer mastery of the situation.

  Ivan turned so Princess Luna would not see his expression. As second to the youngest he was low in the princely pecking order. Producing a well-mannered princess as his brothers struggled with their little hellions would raise his standing within the family. The way he saw it, he had nothing to lose by indulging Luna, especially if it meant she would be so agreeable as to make him look good.

  He turned back to Luna.

  "Very well," he said. "If you are agreeable, then so I shall be. That is the way it is. I shall always be a gentle and understanding leader so long as you sweetly yield."

  "And why shouldn't I?" she asked. "Fighting you would be senseless. You're bigger and stronger than I."

  Prince Ivan puffed out his chest. "Yes I am."

  "I could not fight you off should you decide to punish me again."

  "No, you could not."

  "Indeed," she continued. "My folly would only end in pain brought on my own person. It seems ridiculous to delay my inevitable acquiescence. Why not be about it now and get to know the man I am going to marry?"

  Prince Ivan could no longer hide his delight. His handsome face shone now with his self-satisfied, victorious smile. He could not wait to impress his brothers.

  But first, food.