by Anne Rice
“Yes, disgrace,” said Prince Alexi. “As I was dismissed. It was a complicated affair. It involved Lexius. You remember Lexius, my lord, I’m sure, Lexius of the sultanate. But I think Sonya is quite beyond recalling at this point.”
“I should like to hear all about this,” I said. “Of course I remember Lexius. It was I who stole him away from the sultanate.” I tried not to laugh. “It was perfectly outrageous of me to force Lexius to come with us when we were being rescued by the Captain and others.” I glanced at the Captain. “But of course, Lexius could easily have gotten away, had he wanted to. Where is Lexius now? What is his story?”
“But not now, certainly,” said Beauty. “When we have so very much to discuss. We were speaking of a new spirit.”
“In time, sire, I’ll tell you all I know of what happened,” said Tristan, “of all that was written by Nicholas in the Queen’s chronicles. And I can write to Lexius if that is your wish.”
“I have already written,” said Alexi. “I wrote to him before we left Bellavalten.”
“That’s good, very good,” I said. “I want to know all about what happened with Lexius. Is there any chance Lexius might return?”
“There’s a possibility,” said Alexi. “But Lexius is far away, in the land of his birth, and it will take some time for our letters to reach him.”
I could see that Lady Eva and Lady Elvera were both fascinated. So was the Captain, as the matter of Alexi writing to Lexius had surprised him. I had to know more of all of this.
“But come now,” said Beauty, “to the discussion of the new spirit.”
“Any good mistress or master,” said Lady Eva, “can play a good slave like a harp.”
“Yes, and it my wish,” said Beauty, “that there be slaves of different ages. In the past most were very young, and with reason, but now and then the kingdom might receive older slaves whose gifts rival those of the young ones, and whose stamina is undiminished, and whose will to serve burns bright.”
“Ah, yes,” said Prince Alexi with a long sigh.
Captain Gordon nodded approvingly. “There are some male ponies in the village now who are older,” he said. “There are some so accustomed to that life that they don’t welcome any other.”
“This doesn’t surprise me,” I said, though I had to confess I didn’t remember any older ponies. On the other hand, there had been some very rough ponies in those days indeed, and I never really saw all of the others, only those who were in our teams, or near us in the stalls, or took their recreation when we did.
I caught Lady Eva gazing at me with girlish admiration.
I smiled so broadly I forced her to smile against her will. She gave me a mock-reproving look as if to say, You’re a bad boy.
“And, Your Majesties,” she said, quickly recovering her usual remarkable composure, “may I present you with many innovations of my own which I have developed since I came to the kingdom? Why, I have developed many potions, potions that can aid the most shy slaves to express their passion, and other potions to force sleep and rest at the appropriate times, and of course there are pastes and plasters for decorating slaves that I’ve developed that might well enhance female ponies, and the old tantalizing potions used to punish. Why, I have a great alchemist, Matthieu, working with me in the kingdom, and much can be done now that couldn’t be done in the past because our late queen had no interest, but only if you would allow.”
“We would allow,” said Beauty. “Indeed this sounds most interesting, and precisely the kind of initiative we wish to encourage.” She glanced at me brightly. “Now one thing further,” she said turning to the group again, “that I should make clear. If many applicants come to us and are found worthy, we can greatly expand the use of slaves for different kinds of labor throughout the realm, with great incentives offered to slaves to work their way up the ladder of servitude from the most menial to the finer forms.”
“Yes, this makes perfect sense,” said Tristan. “As of now, after so many years of gradual decline, the kingdom contains only one very large village, and that is the Queen’s Village. The small hamlets scattered throughout the forest and the few manor houses, except for mine, have had no slaves in years.”
“There was a time when they did,” said Alexi. “I remember noble slaves coming to Court to serve in those manor houses when I came. They were sons and daughters of lesser families.”
“I remember talk of that,” said Tristan. “I never saw them. But Nicholas told me years ago that there were no more noble slaves, only royal slaves. The kingdom had declined. It was declining up to the day we left it to come here. But surely with a new birth, many will return to the kingdom, and the manor houses and the little hamlets will take on a new life.”
“But all citizens of the realm will treat all slaves with great care,” I said firmly. “In my time there, slaves were well cared for, massaged, oiled, pampered, and well fed. And it did seem as if the roughest louts in the village knew the rules. No burning, no cutting, no breaking of the skin.”
“Oh, most certainly,” said Captain Gordon. “It is the same now. All slaves protected. All slaves are bathed, oiled, and massaged carefully, regardless of however lowly they might be. And we would be very vigilant with new citizens as to the rules. Slaves are costly. Slaves are precious.” He was working himself up into a lather. I had apparently offended him. “Even of late, slaves are pampered and protected from neglect.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said. “And great care will be taken of course that all guests know the rules.”
“Oh, most certainly, sire,” said Tristan. “I never really knew when I was a slave how many guests did visit the kingdom simply to enjoy the slaves.”
“There have always been hundreds in residence,” said Lady Elvera. She regarded me with her usual cold stare, but her voice had an easy warmth to it, and her words came slowly and evenly. “And at times long ago, there were even thousands of guests for special festivals. But then the Queen grew weary, as we all know.”
“And with a new and vital era beginning,” said Tristan, “we will need our beautifully trained grooms and squires everywhere, always, keeping watch upon the kingdom’s treasure: its slaves.”
“We will need more grooms and squires,” said Beauty. “And I am sure they will come.”
“There are rooms in the castle in the north and east towers,” said Lady Eva, “that have never been used. There is an entire wing of the castle that has been neglected. There must be fifty different rooms there, all waiting to be restored. And then Lord Gregory has the east tower all to himself. There are many rooms above his.”
“Indeed there are manor houses that are now deserted,” said Lady Elvera. “I have always lived at Court, but there are lords and ladies who would pay handsomely for an abandoned manor house which they might lovingly restore to the grandeur of the past—if they could keep their own slaves.”
“And why not?” asked Beauty. “Oh, this is splendid. There is so much to be done, proclamations to be written, lists of rules to be drawn up, new buildings that must be designed.”
“Yes, Your Majesty, it is all too astonishing,” cried Lady Eva. “I will do anything and everything that I might to see your dreams realized.”
“Well, then,” I said. “You have our acceptance of your offer, and you have the main thrust of the changes we would make.”
Prince Alexi rose to his feet. “Your Majesties, I salute you both.” He appeared on the verge of tears. It didn’t seem to me he’d been half so beautiful when he was younger, or perhaps my tastes had changed. He was a man of stunning face and form now, delicate, yes, like something made of dark glass that might break, but I liked him.
Of course I did not think of him now as I’d found him last night in my wife’s bed, in my bed, and naked and childlike as he had hurried to get clear of me, to dress himself and leave the chamber. And I, I had so wick
edly detained him, reaching inside his pants to feel his cock and balls before I let him go, and then kissing him myself as if to claim him. What a piquant and tasty man he was. Hmmm. Such lips, such kisses. But this was a new epoch for us all, wasn’t it, including my precious queen who had not even waked last night to welcome me until I’d used my belt gently on her curvaceous little bottom. Well, suffice it to say that I understood why she’d chosen Alexi for her pleasure.
Tristan and Captain Gordon rose quickly, and Lady Eva rose and made a deep bow. “This is the happiest day of my recent life,” she proclaimed.
“There is much to do,” said Beauty. “And I am most interested in these pastes and plasters and potions you describe, Lady Eva, and some other ideas are coming to me, memories of things I have from the Sultan’s realm.”
“Yes, we are ready and willing with our whole hearts,” said Tristan.
“You have fulfilled our dreams,” said Lady Elvera as she rose slowly. “And I suspect this is as the old queen wished it to be. Bellavalten will be reborn.”
“And in that matter of Lexius,” I added. “You will write to him and invite him to return?” I looked at Lady Eva as if she were my personal scribe now.
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” she answered. “I will do anything you command.”
So it was decided.
So it was done.
I bid them all to be seated again, giddy and relieved as they were, and called for more wine for the entire company.
We had confided to no one the strange dreams we’d had of Titania of Mataquin, but then why should we? There was no necessity for that. Our past was ours, and not the possession of anyone but us. But this happiness belonged to all of us. Yet these moments would not have been so sweet to me had I not seen with my own eyes the splendid Titania of Mataquin, had I not heard it from her lips that I had always been the prince destined for my beloved Beauty.
The remainder of the day was spent in easy conversation and drinking, with Lady Eva and Prince Tristan both busy writing down much of what we had discussed. Soon my secretary Emlin was directed to call the royal scribes to me to assist with those letters that must be sent to Bellavalten and the whole world right away.
Supper was a veritable banquet, and by eight in the evening I was exhausted and ready once more to retire. Only one thing nagged at me and it was, of course, the matter of Lexius and “disgrace” involving Alexi and the mysterious Sonya, but there would be time to learn about all this. Alexi would not have so boldly admitted that he had written already to Lexius if there had been reasons not to pursue such a matter.
In fact, we made a long list of names, names of those slaves I remembered and those Beauty remembered, to which Captain Gordon added a number, and so did Lady Elvera, and Alexi—all of whom were to receive letters of invitation from us. And I could not keep track of the names of those already waiting for us in Bellavalten.
It would be four days at least before we set out for Bellavalten, and much work could be done during that time, and many letters would leave here before we did.
At last, the long and eventful day was done, and Beauty and I were alone—cozy once more in our private chambers, around our own most beloved hearth.
I had been enchanted with the manner in which she presented her ideas to the little assembly, and this made me all the more eager to hold her in my arms. Truly I did not care that she’d been with Alexi. I determined that I would not allow myself to care, and if I thought of it for one moment, I would relish the thought, allowing it to tantalize me, to stoke the fires in my heart, and never to dampen my spirits.
I was so hungry for Beauty, in fact, I all but tore her gown to pieces as I’d done with Lady Eva the night before, and I flung her down on the bed and ravaged her for the better part of an hour before I was finally worn out. She was hot and pliant, her kisses as heated as mine. She resisted nothing as I tormented her gently, playing with her nipples, punishing them, teasing her and holding her at bay, and then handling her with my usual affectionate abandon.
At last I lay there, deliciously exhausted, and I felt her cool hands touching all the little welts and bruises I had from Lady Eva’s paddle and strap. Soon, Beauty was dabbing a soothing ointment here and there, and smoothing the sore muscles of my thighs and calves.
“You are such a wicked boy, Laurent,” she said. “Such a wicked boy!”
“You don’t know the half of it, Queen Beauty,” I murmured into the pillow. My eyes were closed. Her fingers massaging my backside were arousing me again. She pinched and scratched at the welts playfully, then pressed the ointment deep into my sore flesh. Ripples of sweet sensation passed through me, and over all my skin.
“But my, how she whipped you,” she said under her breath. “Wicked Lady Eva.”
“Oh, yes, wicked Lady Eva.” I sighed. “Inexhaustibly wicked Lady Eva.”
There came a knock on our parlor door.
I put on my dressing gown and went to answer, expecting Emlin with some tiresome pesky message, but it was Tristan standing there.
“Well, come in,” I said as I directed him to a chair by the fire. Beauty had retired into her little parlor adjoining the bedchamber. I took the chair opposite him.
“Just one thing more which I wanted to lay before you in private,” he said confidentially, glancing anxiously at the bedroom door as if he did not want Beauty to hear.
“Continue,” I said. “We are alone.” I sat back, and rather enjoying his handsome looks as I had been enjoying them all day, but now especially that my desires were for the moment satisfied, and I did not want to mount him and make him bite the pillow under me as I had been wanting to do all afternoon. “And call me Laurent, now, please.”
“Yes, sire, I mean, Laurent, yes,” he said. “This is a delicate matter. But there is a great manor house in ruins way south of the castle, right near the border, that was in its time quite beautifully appointed and rich.”
“You want this manor house?” I asked. “I thought you already had your own manor house.”
“No, I don’t want it, and yes, I do have my own, as a matter of fact,” he replied. “But what I was wondering is . . . could this house not be restored by Your Majesties for a specific purpose, to wit, to become a place of luxurious accommodations for those lords and ladies of the kingdom, princes, princesses, dukes, duchesses, whatever, who might hunger for a night of being thoroughly mastered and punished in secret by those slaves who possess the gift?”
I laughed. “Of course,” I said. I laughed again. This day would live forever in my memory! What else, I thought, might happen before the hour of midnight? “And who says it must be gifted slaves who do the mastering?”
“Well, no, it wouldn’t have to be slaves necessarily, but there are some who are so singularly gifted. It could be a place where they are mastered by lords and ladies as well.”
“So the old kingdom had no such accommodations?” I asked. “A courtier who longed for the lash wasn’t allowed to feel it?”
“No.”
“How absurd.” I thought of the old queen. What an idiot! But I felt a bit foolish that I’d never even thought of this before. Not once during my years as a slave had I thought of it.
Yes, in the sultanate, I’d mastered Lexius, the Sultan’s steward, right in his own splendid quarters. But Lexius had been no courtier. He had in my mind been a servant.
And Tristan surely remembered, too, how I’d mastered Prince Jerard, a handsome pony, when I caught him in the recreation yard of the stable. And Tristan remembered that I had mastered him, because I had done that too—in the ship returning from the sultanate, I’d whipped Tristan as often as I’d whipped Lexius. And sometimes Captain Gordon had watched, marveling at my skill at mastering as if it was something most slaves did not possess. It had not been a marvel to me. As I’d explained to Beauty, I had always relished the idea of both—being mastered,
and mastering. But I’d never thought of mastering lords and ladies of the Court. Never.
But now I wondered keenly how many might have wanted such a thing.
“Then we shall establish such a place,” I said, “replete with comfortably and richly outfitted chambers, where lords and ladies may go and no one will be the wiser as to who is master or mistress. We’ll make the house a sumptuous, very private retreat.”
“Marvelous!” he said with a sigh of relief. “It happens now, you see, that some are mastered by their slaves, but it is hidden, and secret.”
“Ridiculous,” I said.
Hmmm. What if Beauty wanted to be mastered by someone other than me? What if Alexi had . . . No, that had not happened. I’d seen her fresh and innocent little bottom last night when I’d returned. Still, the thought of it . . .
“It’s something to be enjoyed like anything else,” I said. “And to think that those of privilege would deny themselves such pleasures! What a waste.”
But what if Beauty . . . ? No, I couldn’t think of it. I could accept her taking Alexi into her bed, yes, of course, but— I wouldn’t think anymore on that. Well, not for the moment. But then her voice in my memory saying she must have the very same prerogatives . . . the very same.
Alas, I had to grow into this new role as the King of Bellavalten.
“So it is with Lord Stefan,” Tristan said. “You remember him, the Queen’s cousin?”
“Yes. Of course. He’d been your lover before you were captured and brought to the kingdom. Of course I remember. He couldn’t master you and so you rebelled.”
“Yes,” said Tristan, “and he has a fearsome yellow-haired slave named Becca of whom he is terrified, and it all takes place behind locked doors.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. But this mention of Lord Stefan put me in mind of something.
“Wait,” I said, putting up my hand as I tried to recollect this. “I heard something when I was a slave at the castle. I heard that every year on Midsummer Eve lords and ladies who wanted to be slaves, even princes or princesses of the Court, could come forward and ask to be sold in the village. I never knew for certain whether or not this was true but . . .”