The Surrender of Sleeping Beauty

by Lidiya Foxglove

  It was a miniature palace, really more of a beautiful country house, surrounded by a picturesque landscape of a small lake, a field of sheep, a flower garden, and some very old sheltering trees. The court had loved the first Mistress of Many Loyalties, Madame Pandor, a beautiful woman who loved beautiful things. But she had died just before it was completed, and they said the king had locked the doors of the palace.

  It stood a mile away from the Palace of the Sun. Occasionally, I roamed here and looked at the windows. The building had never even been filled with furniture, much less people, and had now stood unoccupied for more than ten years.

  “I’ll give you a hint,” Augustus said. “I’m about to give you one of my favorite things.”

  “A…a lock? No—a key!” I skipped forward a step with excitement. “I get to go inside the Lady’s Treat?”

  “Better than that.” He put a key in my hand, on a ribbon studded with diamonds. “Dear one, I’m giving it to you to furnish as you like and escape from palace life now and then. The Treat is so small that the guards can stay posted outside the doors and windows and not inside.”

  I gasped. True solitude where the guards were not just on the other side of the wall was something I had never enjoyed in all my married life. “Can I pull up the blindfold now?”

  “We’re not there yet. But I’ve already ruined it, haven’t I?”

  “Oh please. I want to see it as we come closer.”

  “Patience is never your forte.” He lifted the cloth off my eyes and then handed me a slender key with the handle in the shape of a heart.

  I kissed him, and he grinned. “You can thank me well when we arrive.”

  Soon we came to the palace, and I opened the door. The guards stayed outside at the doors and didn’t follow us in. The interior smelled musty with abandonment, but all of the paneling and decorative work had been completed, so as I passed through each room I was greeted with countless works of delicate artisanship, more lighthearted than anything in the Palace itself. The reception room was paneled in carved white, with medallions of flowers around waist height, the marble fireplace topped by a huge mirror where I saw us reflected, Augustus’ tall grace in a brown velvet suit and me looking small beside him in a gown of blush pink. I felt a burst of happiness at the sight of the two of us standing in this room, all alone, bringing life to the neglected space.

  “It almost seems too good to be true,” I told him. “Will it really be…so private that we can do as we like?”

  “Well…soon we will have servants here…so nothing is ever truly private, is it?” He brushed some dust off the mantel with a hand. “And of course, we mustn’t abuse the privilege. It will ruffle a few feathers. But…yes. This will be a sanctuary. Of course…” I saw his thoughts switching to the practical side. “The furnishings must be modest. We have a budget to manage, and it’s already bloated enough. Do you know the table linens in the palace are changed every three years? Well, I’ve ordered that we move it to seven.”

  “Oh, it will hardly need anything. It’s such a cozy little place. Like having our own little home. We’ll just put in some comfortable chairs, and card tables, and billiards, perhaps? Oh, and a piano. And upstairs, you know, enough beds for the usual crowd.”

  “Well, I leave it in your hands,” he said. “Just watch the purse.”

  “How would you like me to thank you, my lord?” I asked, reaching a hand under his jacket and vest to run my palm and fingers across his hard stomach.

  I felt his heart beating very fast. When he didn’t give me an order, I took it upon myself to unbutton his vest and trousers, running one hand up his shirt again while I wrapped the other around his cock and tugged him toward me.

  He put a hand on my head, urging me downward, and I wrapped my mouth around his cock. I worked him up and down, with my tongue, occasionally biting and being very rough with him as I knew he liked, when there was no one around to care. He hit a climax quickly, as I knew he would. He’d been dying for me since the moment he found me in the garden.

  Now his breath was deep and satisfied. He pushed me against the wall.

  “You are different since the coronation,” he said. “More confident.”

  “And you are quite different since your grandfather died,” I said. “And especially lately. Although…I do miss our hunting days.”

  “Yes…me too. Very much. I very much miss the sight of you riding. I don’t even like to talk about it, to be honest—to think that I will never be alone with you in the forest again is very painful.”

  “Oh…when you put it like that…” I shook my head. “But what kind of talk is this on such a happy day? We are alone, now, if not in the forest.”

  “Yes. This is quite a rare moment. We should take advantage of it,” he said.

  Upstairs, we came to bedrooms, with more mirrors, and walls of pale blue and white. The windows overlooked views of forest and field, and a charming little lake.

  “That would be a lovely place to build a little open pavilion,” I said.

  “That sounds expensive,” he replied.

  I huffed. “Yes, yes, I know.”

  We came last to the King’s bedroom still bearing the heavy royal glory of crimson and white cloth on the walls. The posts of the bed were all twined with living vines; it was unclear how they got their nourishment but of course they must be enchanted. “Oh my…this room has a bed.” The bed curtains matched the walls. It must have been the first room to be furnished.

  “That it does…”

  I let him walk ahead of me, as I took the ribbon that held the key and hooked it around one of his wrists. I twisted it, so his hand was bound to mine.

  His eyes sparked. “What do you think you’ll do to me, little one?”

  “What I know you want.” I lifted one of my heeled shoes and pressed it against the small of his back, pushing him to the bed.

  “Rose—we should not go this far.”

  “Then stop me.”

  He paused. “It can only be this once.”

  “That, I know.”

  “And you must never tell Count Farren, even if we should…become intimate with him. I have to be in control of both of you at all times.”

  “My dear Augustus, I know the rules. You might say that even now you’re in control, because you have made it clear what you want me to do.”

  He paused. “Well, don’t say that and destroy the fantasy, if I’m going to have it for once.”

  “I don’t think there is any escaping the fact that you are the King of the Sun Palace.” I smiled, and took the blindfold from his hand. “You are always my master. You simply can’t help it. But—we can, at the least, play a game.” I pushed him to the bed and as he fell back onto the pillows, I pressed my knee between his legs, forcing him to edge back so as not to be crushed. Then I took the ribbon of the key and put it around both of his wrists and tied it in a knot above his head, looping the remainder around one of the bed posts.

  “Now I see how you must enjoy doing this to me,” I said, admiring the sight of him with his arms above his head.

  “Oh, I do,” he growled. “And now I know that it is rather uncomfortable.”

  “And you are enjoying every moment nevertheless, aren’t you?” I gave his cock a little open-handed smack through his trousers.

  “Unh!” He looked nervous, a sweat breaking out on his brow, and I thought that the next time he tied me to the bed I would appreciate it all the more for having returned the favor. There was something so exquisite about seeing him suffer for me. Well, I must finally be starting to understand faery courtship…

  “I wish I had something for your feet…hmm.” I pulled off my shoes and stripped off my stockings. They were easily long enough to use as ties. I spread his feet and tied them to the posts.

  I unbuttoned his clothes, baring him from chest to groin, which was the best I could do while he was tied up, going very slowly as I took time to graze my fingernails down his skin and pinch his nipples and
stroke and squeeze his cock. He groaned in a very gratifying way. I could already see arousal beading at the tip.

  I heard a knock on the door downstairs. Augustus tugged at the ties. “All right, that’s enough playing around. We’ve gone far enough. Much too far.”

  I didn’t want to let him go yet. And I knew he didn’t really want me to let him go either. He wanted it because it was forbidden and dangerous, and was it any wonder when every moment of his life was so controlled? He had dealt with this nonsense far longer than I had.

  I licked the tip of his cock, making it twitch. Then I said, “Don’t panic. I’ll go downstairs and see what it’s about.”

  “Rose—“

  “Shh.” I slipped my bare feet into my shoes, shut the door behind me, and walked downstairs. My heart was beating fast but I felt light on my feet as I answered the main doors. A few servants stood there with baskets.

  “Your grace, we’ve brought the picnic lunch the king requested,” one of the ladies said.

  “Thank you, I’ll take them. The king is upstairs touring the rooms,” I said, reaching for them.

  “We must deliver them to His Majesty!” one of the ladies said, slipping past me as if she were suspicious. She was of the Noria set.

  Now my playful air shifted to some genuine fear. I grabbed the basket from her and gave her my most imperious expression. “The king is my master, but that doesn’t mean I have no authority. I told you I shall take them. You overstep!” That was one of Noria’s favorite words.

  The woman backed off, curtseying, becoming perfectly deferential. “I’m sorry, your grace, terribly sorry.”

  Ooh, they’ll certainly talk about this, I thought, shutting the door and setting the baskets down. But I was quite past caring. My thoughts were with Augustus and finishing what I’d started.

  When I hurried back up the stairs, Augustus was laughing the same way he did on the rare occasion that he drank too much—sharp and tense. “Just the picnic I requested! I forgot all about it. They’ll expect us to eat it outside.”

  “We’re not hungry for that yet, are we?” I climbed on top of him, spreading my legs to sheath his length, letting my weight settle on him. He felt so good from this angle. “You miss the sight of me riding, do you? I wonder what fantasies are hidden inside of your mind…?”

  He looked away from me. “I daresay you already know far more than you should.”

  “I’m your wife. If anyone should know, it’s me.” I stroked my hands up his chest, kissing his face, feeling all the little ways he trembled and twinged when he had no control over my touch. It was so different from the way he usually held me and touched me when I was the one without any control. I rocked my body over his cock, in and out, drawing back so I was sitting straight atop him. His back arched as his pleasure grew and I draped myself over him, my hands wrapped around his wrists, kissing him as we reached our peak.

  He looked spent as he lay there. I buttoned his clothes and untied his hands and feet, and as he sat up and I curtseyed low before him. “I hand back the reins, my lord.”

  He took my hands and looked at me with a serious expression. It was one of those times when I knew it was not a game, but raw truth in his eyes, a boy who had become a man within a prison of gold. “What would I do without you, Rose?”

  I was too superstitious to reply aloud. But hopefully, neither of us will ever find out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rose

  When Madame Bertin came to call twice a week, my chambers bustled with my ladies, books of fabric swatches and silk flowers and greenery meant as samples for choosing the trimmings of our dresses. We spent hours poring over them, with Madame Bertin helping us to make tasteful selections.

  “Your Highness—“ She spoke to Louisa, the Princess Lambala. “I think you like softer colors, yes? Maybe pussywillows and violets in your hair, for just a touch of boldness, and the gown in cream and tan with some pale green and purple. The skirts will be trimmed with ribbon and small arrangements of flowers and these small leaves.”

  “I like lace, too…” Louisa was always hesitant, but I could see she was having fun.

  “Oh yes…lace at your sleeves and trimming the stomacher, I would recommend.”

  “My favorite flower is the poppy,” Julia said.

  “You’re a bold one.” Madame Bertin shook her finger. “I can tell.”

  “Mmhm.” Everyone in the room agreed with that. Julia’s gown was to be striped with a reddish orange and cream and trimmed with vines and ruffles made from individual flower petals.

  The season was turning again to autumn, and my gown was to be a very pale blue with burnt orange velvet, with pearls and butterfly wings in my hair, and pale blue flowers in rosettes on the gown.

  “So unusual! The balls will be so beautiful.”

  I could bring all my favorite things from the garden and the wood in to the ball and I thought the faery kings of old would certainly approve of that. The next couple of days were a nonstop whirl of Madame Bertin’s deliveries, hair appointments with the famous Leonard, and finally the task of getting dressed for the evening festivities. My friends had to attire themselves with the help of their servants, and then attend to me. The gowns were so spectacular they hardly seemed real, with so many fanciful touches.

  “I’m afraid to move!” Louisa fretted.

  “Gods, the old ladies will faint when they see us,” Julia said, strutting in, with huge plumes and poppies in her hair and her skirt cut short enough to show off the gold buckles on her shoes. She was by far the most ostentatious of the three of us, but Madame Bertin had still left the bodice and the underskirt very plain so it stopped short of hurting one’s eyes.

  The old ladies certainly did turn their heads when we walked into the room. Of course Augustus and I had the first dance. He took my hand and I curtseyed to him.

  “So this is what you’ve been up to with the new dressmaker, eh?”

  “Isn’t it lovely?”

  “The colors are beautiful. How many butterflies had to die for this affair?”

  “Oh, Madame Bertin told me she sources them from inside a conservatory,” I said. “They collect them when they’re dying already. That’s where the flowers are from too.”

  “How much did all this cost?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Well, it was a bit, but it’s the first ball of the autumn, and—I had to have something.”

  “None of this stuff will last, Rose. Remember the napkins.”

  “The napkins?”

  “Yes, the table linens, I told you.”

  I rolled my eyes a little. “I should think you want me to look better than the table linens.”

  “It’s not a laughing matter. Bread is still so dear in Luminé that people have been making it out of barley and complaining over the taste.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. Every lady wear gowns. If I showed up without one, would it help anyone?”

  “Enough,” he said, glancing around nervously.

  We both realized at once that we were having a very mundane quarrel in front of the court as we danced and people were noticing. I’m sure they couldn’t hear us, but I shouldn’t have made any faces at him. For me to argue with him in public was probably just as bad as if we’d been caught at the Lady’s Treat the other day. My mother and father used to have loud quarrels at times, but Augustus and I would never be permitted to have a loud quarrel. Everyone would hear us and then they would say I wasn’t doing my duty. I had to submit to him without question even though he was thinking far too much about these budgetary matters.

  He seemed to realize the position I was in. “You do look truly beautiful,” he said. “I just want to be careful, that’s all.”

  “I don’t want anyone to starve. I shouldn’t have said you’re thinking too much over it. I’m glad that you aren’t your grandfather.”

  We made up easily enough, but I doubt that was as interesting to anyone.

  After our dance, the
ball was open to everyone. I always must dance with the Augustus’ brother, the Master of Delights, second. Then I was free to have a drink and talk; other young women wanted to know where I’d gotten such a gown.

  I saw Axel watching me, and I flicked my fan open and gave him a look back over the painted edge before I found Augustus watching us both. Augustus acknowledged Axel faintly, and then Axel came up to me with a bow just as I felt the King’s Vine shift around me and tease both of my entrances—a clear reminder of Augustus’ words some nights ago. If you want two men, you have to be able to handle it.

  “May I have this next dance, Your Majesty?”

  “It—would be my pleasure, Count Farren.” I was flushed as he took my hands and led me to the floor.

  We walked the floor in a promenade before coming back to face each other, a bow and a curtsey preceding a series of twirling and bouncing steps that he clearly knew as well as I did.

  “Elves have the same dances?” I asked him.

  “They are very similar. And I’m a quick study. I liked to dance even as a child. It reminds me of fighting.”

  “Fighting?”

  “Well, there is a sort of dance in fighting. You have to read your opponent and move in response or anticipation of them.”

  “So you’re happy to be a military man, I take it?” I realized how little we really knew about him.

  “I can think of nothing better in all the world to protect what I love,” he said. “And—it doesn’t hurt that I am very good with the sword.”

  I was intrigued. Augustus was obviously very skilled with a bow, but I don’t think he had ever picked up a sword that wasn’t purely for ceremony. In fact, he hardly seemed to know what to do with his ceremonial sword. My husband was a hunter, but not a warrior. I thought he would probably balk at spilling blood. “The ladies must love you.”

  “They did. I expect they wouldn’t be very happy with me now.”