He saw my eyes and a frown tugged at him.
Madame Bariel was sitting beside the king, draping herself on his arm, but watching me here and there, as if she knew my struggle and was waiting to see me crack.
And then there was the Lady of Towers, clearly reading the room and seeing trouble, even if she didn’t know quite what it was about.
Of course, I barely ate anything, which was all I could eat with all those tiny bones of the corset pressing on me.
“What is going on?” Sofia asked, with her other sisters gathered behind her, as we gathered afterward in one of the private salons for card games and wine. “Poor little bird, you look miserable.”
Encouraged, I told her.
“Your posture? I can’t imagine. This sounds to me like Bariel’s revenge…”
“She knows you don’t like wearing the grand corps,” Aunt Victorie said, as if anyone in her right mind would. “She probably told the king you slouch and here we are.”
“Well, what do I do? I’m dressed by a small army. ‘Madame Etiquette’ over there didn’t give me much choice.”
The aunt all laughed heartily behind their painted fans.
“I am the Lady of Towers,” Sofia said. “I stand above ‘Madame Etiquette’. Tomorrow, you must simply refuse to wear a corset at all. You’re so thin, you can easily fit into your dresses regardless. And I won’t wear my corset either.”
Adelinda and Victorie nodded agreement. “Yes, a united front.”
“Augustus said I should stay above the rabble,” I said, but I was already excited about the thought. Not wearing a corset at all? That was even better than when I was home. I would feel free as a child again.
“Even if he feels compelled to tell you to follow the rules, I think deep down he will admire you much more for it,” Adelinda said. “You must understand about rules, child, they are so strict because it makes it all the more fun to break them. That’s how the king ended up with a whore in the first place.”
It was true, I had been in the Palace of the Sun for over a week now, and it was a strange place I wasn’t sure I understood yet. Everything was so strict, and yet things were allowed that I never would have seen back home. In the dim evening light around the card tables, it was occasionally clear that a man was fondling a woman under the table, and the other day while walking in the garden I had seen a women pressed against the hedge, gasping with pleasure, with a man buried under her skirts.
There was a fine line between public and private that was firm in Osteria, and quite malleable here. As if we were all meant to glimpse certain things, just as Augustus told me that the servant should see me with him. So perhaps the rules were not always what I assumed them to be. I had not been raised a faery. I should listen to the council of my new aunts.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
I thought Augustus would support me, because he seemed frustrated that I couldn’t take brisk walks without struggling for breath and getting dizzy, and I’m not sure healing my nightly bruises was his favorite thing either, as much as he seemed to relish the act of working the ointment into my skin.
And so the next morning when one of my ladies of the bedchamber brought out the corset, I shook my head.
“No. I am not going to wear it. I’m not wearing a corset at all.”
“Of course you are,” Countess Noria said.
“No.” I crossed my arms, shying back. The ladies all edged away from me uncertainly, as if they didn’t know if they should wrestle it onto me or respect my royal person.
“But, your posture! The physician said—”
“No one has ever said a word of complaint about my posture before. I’ll take my chances.”
“Your lord husband—“
“I will take my chances with him too.”
Noria gave me a look as if she’d like to slap me before she composed herself. Her fair, but thin face was still twisted with annoyance. “You are a willful girl. A fair warning, if you go around shoving down pillars you will soon find the roof toppling down upon you.”
“Perhaps they were rotted to start.”
A couple of my ladies suppressed soft laughter, and not just Julia. Even the Princess Lanbala, usually a rather soft and quiet girl, seemed to enjoy the moment. Countess Noria was so strict with everyone, after all.
Noria quietly fumed, but my dresses fit without the corset, and even though I was still weighed down with fabric, petticoats and panniers, and the firm seams of my bodice, my steps were much lighter as I joined Augustus for breakfast before the court.
He gave me a secretive expression. “A small rebellion, eh?” He put a hand to my back and stroked my back down to my waist, the touch brushing my ribcage through the fabric.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“The less between you and me, the better,” he said.
I saw Madame Bariel looking at me, but then, what else was new? The aunts seemed pleased and true to their word, I didn’t see the lines of boning beneath their bodices either.
I’ve won this round, I thought.
Silly me. I didn’t understand the faery court at all.
Chapter Eleven
Rose
My favorite thing about the Palace of the Sun was the gardens. They sprawled forever, lovingly attended the old palace gardener. Huge fountains of gold fish spewed water into multiple levels of basins, providing the romantic sound of falling water as a backdrop to my strolls. Everywhere I turned I found marvelous white statues of the creatures of faery legend, tricksters and fiddlers and beautiful maidens. There was a long arbor walk, shady even on the hottest days thanks to all the green climbing the lattice. And the orangery parterre, where the potted orange trees were brought out for the summer.
Augustus was an ever present force within my life. I shared the most intimate of moments with him, and he had an uncanny knack for knowing when I might have forgotten who I belonged to. He would pull me aside and tease me with skillful hands, find me in the gardens and pull me into some private nook and fuck me there before kissing my hand and disappearing again.
One day I found him outside, helping workmen to lay bricks. I did a double take, thinking at first that I had found a doppelgänger among the laborers. But no, it was my prince, sweating and dirty in brown trousers and vest, working as hard as anyone. I didn’t call any attention to myself, feeling somehow as if I had stumbled on something I shouldn’t see, but simply moved on.
Why is he here?
My brothers were all more informal than Augustus but not one of them had ever worked alongside servants.
“He does that sometimes,” Julia told me later.
“For what purpose?”
“Don’t ask me! He likes working hard more than I do, that’s certain.”
He was a difficult man to get to truly know. His commanding presence seemed built on the fact that no one knew him as well as they might like, quite the opposite of his grandfather, who was always joining in on the gambling and the dances, making jokes, teasing the ladies about their fashions. Augustus always left one wanting more. He took his duties very seriously indeed and was always reading on history and the doings of his predecessors, attending all the official meetings on the state of the kingdom alongside his grandfather, poring over reports that I don’t think even the king bothered to read, then vanishing to his workshop or off to hunt…or to lay bricks, perhaps. He also liked to go to bed promptly and he expected me to come with him. I had to leave some parties just when the fun was getting started.
But then, he had ways of making me forget the party once I was secured in my bed, in his arms, with his exquisite focus on every inch of my body. How could I think of anything else?
The one thing I continued to fail at was to control my satisfaction; when his hands and mouth were upon me or his shaft inside me I was simply at his mercy and didn’t know how I would ever learn to control that.
My first month as the Princess of the Sun Palace came and went, a combination of new deligh
ts and challenges. I started to solidify my place within the court, with the lively Julia forming the pillar of my newfound friendships, and the Princess Lanbala, soon known to me as Louisa, growing closer. Louisa was a widow at the age of twenty-four, and she looked so sad that I always wanted to take care of her even though she was older than me. She was also soft and kind, and she shared my love of gardens. Julia was the friend with a wild laugh, a taste for mischief, and an endless supply of gossip; maybe she did have goblin blood after all.
But Countess Noria was like a fly buzzing in my ear:
“You were supposed to greet her with a nod.”
“No, no, I told you to greet Lady Biriel with a nod, but you were absolutely not supposed to nod to Madame Severa, she is not even noble!”
“Your speech is far too informal.”
“You laugh too sharply, particularly considering it is after dark.”
“Princess, I beg your pardon, but you smell a bit like fir. Is that so? I’m sure you must know that you cannot take any evergreen scents in your bath until after Samhain. But then, I will speak to your mistress of the baths…”
Most of all, she hated Peony and she hated it even more when Augustus got her a companion, a loyal little pug with an amusingly glum air about him; I named him “Storm”. Storm and Peony’s romping around my chambers was infuriating to Noria, who was clearly not a pet person. One day she stepped in a pile of dog droppings that had been lurking behind a sofa unseen, and Julia and Louisa and I were in stitches over it for days.
Every little thing I did was a matter of scrutiny, and she continually sniffed at my choice of friends. Sometimes I snuck off to the palace attic with my friends just to get away from her.
My mother added to the chorus, writing letters reminding me to say my prayers, keep up with my studies, submit to my husband’s will, and asking if I had menstruated yet. Everyone was hoping for an heir immediately. It would fully secure my position and the alliance between our countries.
I wanted a child for the sake of my duty, but I was a little frightened of changing my body just as I was beginning to understand it.
I heard whispers sometimes around the corners of the rooms I passed through. I knew people were saying I was willful and there were speculations that maybe I didn’t submit to Augustus when we were alone, or noting that they had not seen him be very aggressive with me.
If he wasn’t aggressive with me, I couldn’t imagine what they expected.
Living around Augustus in this palace gave every day a heightened sense of tension and excitement. I never knew when he would seek me out or what he would do to me when he found me.
One day he came to me in his hunting clothes, hat tucked under his arm. He dismissed my guards. At this time of day, I was consigned to my female pursuits; needlework, practicing the harp or the piano, having tea with my friends. Today I was actually making some attempt to read a history of Ellurine’s capital city of Luminé, but my eyes kept wandering out the window.
He sat in the chair beside me and looked at the book, rubbing his chin and trying to suppress a grin. “Did I actually catch you reading history?”
“Sort of. I’ve read four pages in the last half hour…”
“But you are trying. What got you interested in the city?”
“Well, I’ve never seen it! In Osteria the palace is right in the city so we went there all the time for plays and parties and things. I don’t have a very good idea of what the country is like. How can I be the queen of invisible subjects?”
“We will go to the city someday. But the thing is…they come to see you. That’s why our meals and dances and the palace in general are open to the public. Everyone is admitted as long as they’re properly dressed, and frankly…I think we’ve gotten pretty relaxed on that account. Osteria’s palace isn’t anywhere near as open, is it?”
“Not at all! But…I’d rather go look at the people than have them look at me…”
“That’s not how it works when you’re so fine to look at.” He stood up. “But I have something that’ll cheer you up.”
“I never said I was sad.”
“You’re restless, aren’t you?” He took my hand and drew me to my feet, wrapping his arms close around me. “Anyone would be. You’ll like this. Mostly. I’m going to undress you.” He started unfastening the hooks at the front of my dress. Since it was before dinner, I was wearing a more informal gown with a pattern of flowers and a lace stomacher. He opened the gown in front and flung it off me onto the chair.
Now I stood there in my underthings, panniers tied at my hips, linen chemise and petticoats. He bent down on one knee as he unfastened my petticoat.
I was surprisingly aroused at watching my lord and master perform the tasks that were usually done by my ladies who stood beneath me in the hierarchy. I kept expecting me to touch my breasts or my sex, but instead he kept his hands off of my body except for faint, accidental brushes. My skin tingled with wanting. The room was pleasantly warm, a perfect June day, and as he untied the string that held up the panniers to my hips, as the clothes fell away, I felt so light. We were not in the bedroom, where I was always undressed, but in the more stately surroundings of the private library I had been given whether I liked reading or not.
Now he pulled the chemise off my head, revealing all my naked skin, but my hair was still curled and tied with a ribbon for midday and I had a cameo necklace at my throat. He urged me to stand with my legs spread as he took off my shoes.
“Wait there,” he said, gathering all the clothes in a bundle and walking out the door.
I waited, chewing on my lip, casting my eyes to the window. I could see the forest from this second-floor room, stretching into the distance through slightly wavy panes. The windows in this room were flanked by shelves, so they seemed deep-set into walls of books.
The door opened again. “Don’t look. I want to surprise you. Hold up your arms again,” he said behind me.
He dropped a loose sleeved garment onto my arms and carefully pulled the collar around my hair. When he pulled them hem down I realized how short it was—a man’s shirt! And now he drew the sleeves of a coat onto me. A riding coat, cut for a woman’s figure, like the one I used to wear at home when I rode with my brothers. He straightened out the shirt and tied the ruffled lace around my throat, securing it with a jeweled pin.
“Verrry smart.” He almost growled out the word, looking at me hungrily. “I like you this way.”
“I hope there’s going to be a skirt.”
“Better than a skirt.”
My eyes widened. “Britches?”
He laughed. “First, I made a special lock and key for you.”
I shivered, wondering what this would be.
“I had to consult with Gamain—the maker of clockworks—this was somewhat beyond my expertise. It’s probably my fault that you have failed in your bedroom duties to learn control. I have lacked control myself where you’re concerned. So this will help. It is very similar to other devices that faeries have made out of enchanted wood for centuries, but I find something very seductive in a clock. The tension of a key twisting inside, the teeth catching gears to unleash a steady rhythm…each little piece of it so carefully crafted…”
He finally slipped a hand between my legs and I shuddered, grateful to finally feel the firm touch after so many subtle ones. “You’re making me nervous now.”
“You don’t feel nervous here.”
I clutched at his chest, leaning into his touch just as he pulled away from me and returned to the pile of clothes. I heard the clink of a small metallic weight like a pocket watch. He came back to me with a curious device, like a golden belt with a curved piece on it where a tiny clock face was mounted, with a ornate little lock.
Augustus fitted the gold belt around my hips and it also had two silk ribbons that looped around the outer edge of the folds of my sex, keeping it secure. My legs were still spread wide apart, keeping my folds open. A tiny clock fit over my swollen bud where
a coil of tension and desire concentrated. Augustus guided my legs closed but the clock folded up inside the outer lips, pressing down on my clit and encompassing it.
He fit the little key into the lock, both so small that they could have been for a clock in a doll’s house, and wound the clock. Suddenly I felt some tiny object swirl around my swollen bud, like the clock had a hand on the inside and not just on the face, although it was not ornate metal like a clock, but soft like something rigid covered in smooth leather. I clamped my legs tight together in surprise.
“That marks a minute,” he said. “One second out of every sixty, you will feel the marking of another passing minute with a carefully timed stimulation. It will last the day, fifteen hours in fact. Every morning, we’ll wind it again for another day. Fifteen hours times sixty minutes means that you will feel the mark of my hand nine hundred times a day.”
He paused, waiting for another swirl to rock me to my core.
“I want you to come any time I tell you. And at no other time. No matter what is going on. Practice the control and restraint you have been taught. Can you do that, Rose?”
“I don’t know…”
“Then you have to learn. I think I’ve given you plenty to work with. Your mind will play a powerful role. You have to be able to put yourself in the proper state. Any time I ask.”
“I don’t know…” I gave him a furtive glance. “What if I can’t? I’m not a faery. Maybe I’m just not up to the task…maybe I’ll never be a proper Queen Who Bowed. There are times when—“ I cut myself off. I had almost started to confess to him that sometimes I was homesick, that I just wanted a normal day, to wear clothes without thinking about it, and walk and talk about things, and then slip off to a party in the city and laugh.
I knew that was not the relationship we would have, nor the relationship we would ever have.
“Times when what?” he asked.
I lowered my eyes. “Forgive me, my lord.”
His hand cupped my cheek. “Rose? There’s nothing to forgive. I know I ask a lot of you. I don’t think anyone truly understands what the queen of Ellurine goes through. They see all your finery and elevated position and think you must never suffer. To be king and queen requires intense fortitude. Even if you can’t always follow, your efforts are sincere. If you ask for a little something of your own now and then, I am happy to grant it to you.”
The Surrender of Sleeping Beauty Page 9