Laying down next to her he pulled her into his arms inhaling the fragrance of her hair, and relishing the soft yielding of her body.
“I love this,” she sighed, “being in your arms this way.”
“Soon it will be every morning,” he promised.
“It will?”
“I have decided our wedding should be soon, very soon, and I have also decided it should take place at my new home, with the blessing of your father and my Prince of course.”
“Your home? I thought we would have a big celebration in the castle.”
“I believe your father will be concerned about security at such an event, and the same is true with Zanderone, but at my residence it will be much safer. We can avoid the throngs that will arrive in either realm to mark the occasion, and enjoy the intimacy of a small number of invited guests.”
He waited, praying that she would understand the ceremony was about the two of them, not just a time for adulation over her dress, her hair, and her warrior husband. This was the first thing he needed to hear, the first and most important.
“Larian, as I think upon it, I believe it will be even better,” she said softly.
“Because?”
“Because it will be so special, and what better place to start our life than at your new home.”
The surge of relief that traveled through his heart made him hug her tightly, squeezing her against his chest.
“Larian!”
“I must hold you this way for a moment,” he said tenderly, “I must.”
Her heart was true; it was her intense desire for boundaries, discipline and love that had sent her off course, and he knew exactly how to redirect it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Much to Lizbett’s delight the morning meal was served on the outside patio, and as she drank the honey tea, and ate the warm bread fresh from the oven smothered in vegetables that had been basted and baked until soft and creamy, she ooh’d and aah’d with every mouthful.
“Uncle, this is better than the food at the castle. Why does it taste so delicious?”
“It’s the soil here,” he smiled. “The fruits are sweeter, the vegetables have more flavor, even the milk and cheese from our animals has a richer taste and creamier texture.”
“May I please buy some and have it delivered to father? He would enjoy it so much, and I would love to surprise him.”
“For sale, no, to gift, yes, and it will be my honor to send him some as a token of our long friendship,” Uncle replied. “Soon you will be my niece, and perhaps, if Larian honors you as he should, I will supply some tasty morsels for your wedding.”
Larian knew exactly what his uncle meant; before breakfast Larian had taken him aside and told him of his epiphany during the night.
“As I thought,” his uncle had nodded. “I could see it in her eyes. Do you know what to do?”
“I believe so, Uncle,” Larian had replied.
“Then don’t wait, do it with haste.”
Selecting a slice of seeded bread from the basket in the center of the table, Larian covered it with soft cheese and smiled at him.
“Uncle, I can assure you, Lizbett will have all the honor she can handle.”
“Honor? What is this talk of honor?” Lizbett frowned.
“Giving you honor by showing you affection,” Larian replied, “and by teaching, by protecting and nurturing you.”
“That sounds nice,” she smiled.
“Now I must tell you the news Zoltaire brought from your father,” Larian said soberly.
“Oh, my goodness, yes, tell us,” she said eagerly.
As he relayed the report he saw his uncle take it all in, weighing the information and looking at it from different angles. When their meal came to an end, and Lizbett left to collect her things for the journey, his uncle gestured for him to remain behind.
“There’s more,” his uncle said knowingly.
“There is, Uncle,” Larian said excitedly. “When I marry Lizbett the King wishes to appoint me as Head Negotiator.”
“Hmmm, such an important post,” his uncle remarked with a grave expression.
“You seem…unsure. I thought you’d be eager for me to have such an opportunity.”
“Let me guess,” his uncle began. “He says your youth is an advantage because his enemies, or those he’s trading with, will underestimate you.”
“Yes! Those are almost his exact words.”
“He is right, but you are not just a young man, you are a Warrior Of The First Order. This tells your opponents you are exceptional, so the advantage of your youth is perhaps, overstated.”
“Uncle, I don’t understand your hesitation.”
“If you accept this post you will be working directly with the King. If there are winning moments he will take most of the glory, in defeat you will bear the fault, and remember, Larian, being the King’s Negotiator means travel and sitting across a table. I doubt you can be effective as both a Commander and a Negotiator. I suspect you would have to pick one or the other.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” he pondered. “You think I should not accept?”
“I think we should discuss this further; those are just some thoughts to consider. You are the Kingdom’s hero at the moment. Enjoy it for a while, make things right with Lizbett, have your wedding, then see how you feel. This situation, this offer, it has no time limit. You don’t need to make such an important decision immediately; it is your youth that propels you forward with some impatience.”
Larian stared into the man’s eyes and shook his head.
“Uncle, I treasure your wisdom.”
“It is only the advice of an old man, but I will always be here to offer it…at least until the Commander in the heavens calls me home.”
“He can’t. Your wisdom is too important to me.”
“I believe he won’t until you no longer need my counsel,” his uncle murmured. “Now go, collect your things, your home is waiting, and more importantly, Lizbett is in need. Put her first and everything else will fall into place.”
Larian hugged him, and as he did he could feel the solid muscles beneath the weathered skin. As he left and walked down the hallway to his room, he found solace in the powerful body he knew lived under his uncle’s clothes.
I must have you in my life, Uncle, and I will for some time yet. You may carry many battle scars, but your body and mind are still strong.
A short time later the carriage and its retinue of warriors were rolling down the narrow lane away from the courtyard. Sitting across from her, Larian thought Lizbett appeared happy and rested; she had certainly been delighted when he’d told her he was going to share the first half of the journey with her.
“I think we should close the shades,” she giggled as they reached the end of the lane and turned on to the road.
“The day is so bright, the scenery so interesting. You’ve never been here before. Don’t you want to enjoy the new sights?”
“I’d rather be in your lap,” she sighed, her violet eyes begging him for attention.
Ignoring her pleading request he let the silence tick for a while, then moved across and sat next to her.
“Does this mean I can draw the shades?” she twinkled.
“No, I want to talk to you,” he said warmly, taking her hand and squeezing her fingers. “Tell me, when you were growing up and did something naughty, how would your mother or father punish you, or the woman who cared for you when they were busy?”
She stared back at him, surprise crossing her face, and he saw her happy expression began to dissolve.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not a difficult question,” he said calmly.
“I’d rather talk about the question you put to me last night,” she said with a slight edge to her voice.
“Hmm, well, with that question there is nothing to discuss, once you have the answer you will tell me,” but you won’t have it, not yet. You won’t have it until we pass through thi
s difficult time. “When you were a bad girl, how were you punished? Did you get your bottom smacked, were you locked in your room?”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” she scowled. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Your father told me a story about how he had once done that, locked you in your room. He said you climbed out a window. Is it true? Did you walk along the castle roof?”
“Why are we talking about this?” she said tersely. “I don’t wish to go back to those days.”
“Why not? Why is this upsetting you?”
“It’s not upsetting me. It’s just…I was…I am…I have my own mind about things, that’s all.”
“What happened when they discovered you had escaped through your window? What happened when they found you? Your father must have been very angry that you’d gone to such lengths to disobey him.”
“Of course he was, what do you think?” she snapped.
He paused, and tilting his head to the side he frowned at her.
“Don’t you think it’s unwise to take that tone with me?”
She looked at him, dropped her eyes, and lifted his hand to her lips.
“I’m sorry, Larian. You’re right. You should spank me for being so rude.”
“Um, no, I don’t think so,” he said casually, then reaching into the bag on his waist belt he retrieved a piece of paper and a writing implement and scribbled something.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just making a note.”
“What kind of a note.”
“You’ll find out when I’m ready to tell you.”
“But I want to know now!” she said vehemently.
“Oh, dear,” he sighed scribbling again.
“Larian, this is most disconcerting. I insist, please, you must tell me what you’re writing,” she demanded.
“Why must I?”
“Because I want you to.”
“I have already explained, Lizbett, you will not always get what you want with me.”
“This isn’t fair,” she exclaimed, and to his astonishment she stamped her foot.
“What was that?” he asked, breaking into a grin.
“Now you’re mocking me.”
“I’ve just never seen anyone, except a tiny child of course, stamp their foot. It was amusing.”
“Well, I’m not amused, I can tell you that!” she snapped.
“No, that’s obvious, and you’re not being very pleasant company either. Why won’t you tell me about what happened after you climbed on to the roof?”
“Because there’s nothing to tell, nothing happened, nothing at all,” she exclaimed, almost shouting.
“And did that make you angry or happy?”
“Why are you interrogating me? Happy of course, and things got much better after that. I did as I pleased. Nothing happened about anything. Everyone was afraid I’d climb on to the roof again so they never locked me anywhere ever again,” she declared triumphantly.
“Lizbett…there’s something I must tell you.”
“Why do you look so serious?”
“This is a serious matter, and I must have your complete attention.”
“You’re scaring me, and this is a strange conversation, all of it, the writing on that paper, everything,” she frowned.
“I will no longer be spanking you, or punishing you, when you misbehave.”
He stared at the look of shock crossing her face; it was a profound statement, and he knew it had shaken her.
“I…uh…why not?”
“Because, Lizbett, I can no longer allow you to control things, to control me. I know exactly what you’ve been doing, and it’s coming to an end, right now, right this minute.”
He saw the deep crimson blush start at her neck, and slowly crawl up and over her face.
“What…uh…I…don’t know what you mean,” she stammered.
“Oops, that was a lie,” he mumbled, and opened the piece of paper to scribble yet again.
“Larian, please,” she begged, her eyes brimming with tears, “please tell me what’s going on, the questions, that paper…”
“I will, but only if you tell me the truth,” he said, his aqua eyes sizzling across at her.
She stared back at him, but only for a minute, then dropping her gaze, in a very tiny voice she said,
“You’re right,” she quivered. “I have, uh, been bad so you would, uh, punish me,” and burst into tears.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
He held her and rocked her and let her cry. They were the first tears he’d seen her shed and it broke his heart, but he knew they were good tears, cleansing tears, tears of frustration finally being released. When they began to abate she pulled back to wipe her face, and when he looked into her eyes they were no longer deep violet, but soft mauve.
“What is it?” she asked seeing the bewilderment on his face.
“It’s your eyes.”
“What about them?”
“They’re lighter, much lighter.”
“They…they are?” she managed still composing herself. “I don’t understand. How strange. There were times when I was much younger that they were lighter.”
“That’s extraordinary,” Larian exclaimed.
“Do they look…okay?”
“They look beautiful,” he smiled. “You look beautiful.”
“I wish there was a reflecting glass here.”
“They’re beautiful, truly,” he assured her.
She sighed and kissed his neck, then laid her head back on his shoulder.
“When was the last time you cried, Lizbett?”
“Um…a long time ago. When you left the stables.”
“Not since then?”
“No. There were times I felt it but I pushed it away.”
“Poor Lizbett,” he crooned stroking her hair.
“Please will you tell me what you meant about not punishing me anymore?” she softly asked.
“I didn’t say that. I said I’m no longer going to punish you at the time you misbehave. I’m going to do things differently from now on.”
“How?”
“I’ll tell you the new rules,” he said firmly, “but first I must explain something. When you were growing up it was confusing when you weren’t punished for being a bad girl, so you did even worse things trying to get the attention you wanted. Still nothing happened and it was very upsetting for you. Does that sound right?”
“It does, it does,” she said urgently. “I felt like nobody cared.”
“They cared, they cared very much, but you had a stronger will. They didn’t know what to do so they gave up. You won a battle you didn’t want to win.”
“You’re right,” she whispered.
“You don’t just have a strong will, you’re very clever, and one day those things will make you a great Queen, not to mention a formidable opponent, but I will tell you, Lizbett, and this is for certain, your will, it is not stronger than mine, and your clever brain, mine will outwit yours every time.”
She stared back at him, feeling her heart thump in her chest, and the flippity flip spring to life.
“I can sense it,” she murmured, “I think I must have sensed it all those years ago. Thank the Gods you came to that stable back then. Thank the Gods.”
Lifting her mouth to meet his she kissed him with a woman’s passion, moving her lips and tongue, lightly biting and nibbling, then breaking away she sank into his chest.
“I ache to lay with you,” she breathed, “and now I feel worthy of it.”
Engulfing her, his powerful arms wrapping her up, he closed his eyes and felt the new softness of her being.
“You always have been worthy,” he murmured, “but now you are learning who Lizbett is, you are learning who I am.”
They nestled for a while, feeling the shroud of their new intimacy, then Larian pushed her back.
“From now on,” he said firmly, “you will not be punished at the time you do something wrong, but
I will make a note of it, and once a week you will receive whatever punishment I deem necessary for your naughty deeds.”
“That sounds…kind of scary,” she stammered. “I mean, adding it up like that.”
“In addition I will spank you every morning. It will be short and sharp. I have decided that a spanking a day will keep the petulance away.”
“Every morning?”
“Yes, every morning,” he repeated, “until I decide otherwise. If you’re very bad I won’t spank you at all, but I will keep your nugget starving for a long time.”
“Sir,” she breathed.
“Lastly, if I ever, and I do mean ever, sense that you are attempting to control me or manipulate me, I will have to assume you no longer desire my company.”
“I will always desire you,” she said solemnly.
“Do you understand everything I’ve told you?”
“Yes, I do, everything,” she nodded, and the look in her mauve eyes told him she did; it was slightly apprehensive, but filled with love and respect.
“The day we met up at the bridge and I spanked you at the waterfall, you finally got what you’d been craving, but your hunger for it was so strong you went to great lengths to get more of it.”
“It’s true, Larian, I’m so sorry,” she apologized as the red blush returned. “I didn’t know how else to…you know…get you to do that.”
“Those days are over. You will be subject to my discipline as I see fit, and there will be times you will disagree, but that’s not going to change my mind.”
“I want this,” she said softly. “I want this very much.”
“I know,” he smiled. “Now tell me, how is your nugget, wife-to-be?”
“My nugget?” she smiled. “My nugget is hungrier than ever.”
“I think I’d like to check,” he murmured. “Close the shades.”
Sighing happily she kissed him lightly, then moved around the carriage pulling the thick red fabric over the windows. Returning the paper to his bag he felt his heart fill with relief and joy; she would still be difficult, but he believed his uncle’s last words; everything would fall into place.
“Pull up your dress and petticoats, untie the cord that holds up your underthings, and stretch over my lap,” he said as she hurried back to him.
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