by Unknown
Berthe could hardly argue. Nodding, she replied, “You just go on up and have yourself a good time. Don’t even worry about coming back downstairs tonight. And if you’re not here lugging pails of water in the morning, I’ll know we’ve got ourselves a new queen.”
The caring smile on Berthe’s lips made Lally wish her mother was alive to see her off. Still, she appreciated the cook’s sympathetic words. Before hopping up the kitchen stairs, she threw her arms around Berthe’s neck. “Thank you,” Lally said, kissing her cheek. “You are a kind woman.”
Fluttering along the corridor, Lally felt feather-light after heaving one secret from her shoulders. She might just disclose her true identity to the king after all, if this was how wonderful revelations felt. There he was. King Aelwyn. Seated upon his throne at the far end of the great hall, he represented all that was good in the world. At the winter feast, she would sit at his side. King Aelwyn and Queen Allerleirauh. Her happy heart bounced in her chest as she stepped into the great hall. A path cleared before her. King Aelwyn rose from his throne. Relief washed over his face. “Allerleirauh, you’ve returned,” he said, bowing deeply before her.
At all costs, she avoided revealing her anxieties. They were not for him to see. For him, she wanted to be more than the animal in her past. Superhuman, even. A picture. “You knew I would return,” Lally answered, offering her hand to dance. “How could I stray when I so love you?”
Lally froze. Why did she never think before speaking? True though her proclamation was, she ought not have spoken those precious words in public, in front of guests and palace staff. It was the wrong place, wrong time.
“That’s rich!” cackled Liam, stepping out in front of the king. He knocked Lally’s hand away, blocking her view of precious Aelwyn. “You really think the King of the North could love you? Perhaps you’ll marry in prison after you’re sentenced for punching the Ambassador of the Eastern Kingdom!”
Lally didn’t have to turn to know the king’s guards had congregated behind her. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and warm metal. Rough hands grasped her wrists, holding them at the small of her back. Her instinct was to attack, to kick back at their shins, do anything to get away. But what use would it be to attack the king’s guard? She’d got herself into enough trouble, assaulting an ambassador. In any case, King Aelwyn would not allow her to be locked away in the pit of the dungeons.
“Come on,” grunted a husky voice. It was Boris. The guard who had always been kind to her as the hairy animal now pushed her toward the entrance to the great hall. Why did the king not help her?
“King Aelwyn!” Lally cried in confusion. Why did he not reply? Why hide behind scrawny little Liam? “Boris, where are you taking me?” Though still unfamiliar with the palace, she knew dungeons were located underground. Why was Boris pushing her up the stairs?
When he responded with an indecipherable grunt, Lally asked again. No response this time. Where were they headed? A bedchamber? Panic-stricken, Lally dropped to her knees on the marble floor. As she fell, Boris tightened his grasp around her wrists. Her arms swung upwards. The strain on her shoulders made her wince, but this pain was preferable over the unknown torture of the bedchamber.
“I haven’t got time for this,” Boris grumbled, dragging poor Lally along the marble floor. When she screamed in terror and pain, Boris picked her up by the waist and threw her into a chamber. She landed with a thud on the hard floor, and quickly leapt to her feet. Her heart pounded in her chest, her ears like a rabbit’s on high alert. Where was the predator? She spun around in quick circles, eyes peeled for her attacker. There was no one in the room. Even Boris had gone, slamming the door behind him. All that was left was the dark wooden bed with its red velvet curtains drawn, a desk heaped with books, a chair with feather fill poking up through the seat, and a table near the window.
Why had she been brought here? Was somebody coming for her? Or perhaps this was her dungeon. For Allerleirauh, prison was a softer place. Yes, that seemed plausible. The king favoured her after all, and so had her imprisoned her in a comfortable bedchamber rather than a dank cell. Lally’s heart fluttered with excitement. The king loved her! Of course he did!
Acclimatizing herself to her cell, Lally sauntered to the window. The room overlooked mountains to her left, and the vast forest straight ahead. If she were to walk through them, she would find herself in her father’s kingdom once again. Lally shuddered. She would rather live in a dungeon than that castle to the south.
Chapter Nine
A metal click alerted Allerleirauh to the key turning in her chamber door. It opened slowly to reveal the good king. Lally couldn’t conceal her delight at his arrival. She ran to him with a smile on her lips and in her heart. “Oh, my dearest Aelwyn!” she cried, jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. “I knew you would not lock me away in a dungeon.”
When the king’s strong hands clutched Lally’s body, she realized how many months it had been since she last touched a man. The smell of him, of frankincense and greatness, sent a wave of warmth along her front. “I apologize for the charade downstairs,” he began. “You know all about inter-kingdom politics. The Ambassador insisted we imprison his assailant. As far as he knows, we have.”
“I knew it!” Allerleirauh replied, planting kiss after kiss against King Aelwyn’s soft cheeks. “I knew you could not imprison me, even if I have done wrong. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you would be my saviour.”
As she gazed into the warm pools of his eyes, a tender affinity overtook her. Aelwyn set her down on the bed. “You said you were a Northerner,” the king began. “I can’t help wondering why, then, you speak with a Southern accent.”
Lally swallowed hard, chuckling nervously. “Southern accent? I…” She chuckled again, tossing her hair behind her shoulders in hopes of drawing the king’s attention down to her cleavage. Against the white of her skin, her brilliant dress sparkled like diamonds.
For a brief moment, the king appeared distracted. He recovered too soon. “Yes. Your speech is pointed and refined.”
How to explain her formal diction? “I was schooled by a Southern tutor.” Excellent excuse! Allerleirauh slid closer to King Aelwyn on the bed, placing a tempting hand on his thigh. How badly she desired to kiss his plump pink lips!
“I see,” he replied with a sly grin. “Well, your tutor must have told you a great deal about Princess Lally of the South. Is that why you went to the extreme of smacking a foreign dignitary in defence of her honour?”
“No, no, no. I know nothing of this Princess Lally,” Allerleirauh replied without reflection. Why, then, had she punched the Ambassador? “I was offended in a general sense by that horrid man’s assertion. Perhaps I ought not assault your guests, King Aelwyn, but he made my blood boil.” Lally could not bear to repeat the words, or even reflect upon them. The very thought made her ill.
“I understand,” said the king, placing an arm around Allerleirauh’s bare shoulders. The heat emanating from his body drew her close. She felt at home in his arms. Before now, Lally’s only desire in relation to men was dominance over them. What she felt for the king was so very different. This was love, it had to be. What else could cause a person’s stomach to quake, mind to reel, and heart to tremble all at once?
“When I first heard the rumour about Princess Lally’s troubles, I felt the same way,” King Aelwyn continued. “Outraged, angered, protective of the young woman. In fact, when I first received intelligence suggesting King Galyn wanted to wed his own daughter, I didn’t believe it could be true. But my most reliable sources in the South were all telling me the same thing. I couldn’t suspend my disbelief any longer. That’s when I sent troops to the South to take control of the Kingdom. Galyn fled to his chambers, ordering his councillor, Offal, out of prison to take the reigns. Offal conceded on condition the king remained incarcerated within his private room where he couldn’t harm anyone but himself. Since Princess Lally’s whereabouts remain
unknown, it’s possible she might return home. If she does, she’ll be safe.”
A gush of warmth flooded Lally’s breast as her sides trembled with eager affection. Aelwyn was not aware he had met Princess Lally, and still he cared enough to save her from her wretched lot. What a perfect man! When Aelwyn gazed down at Allerleirauh nestled against his strong chest, she saw herself melting into a puddle of desire on the marble floor. She had kissed him one time before, but that seemed different. Lally was always the kisser, the seductress, the temptress. She wanted King Aelwyn to kissed her.
His warm gaze shone over her. Aelwyn leaned down until his soft, full lips met hers. The heat of his body consumed Allerleirauh like fire. Their tongues coiled in slow, serpentine motion. It had been so long, so very long, since she had…since she had bathed!
Springing up and away from Aelwyn, Allerleirauh cried, “You did not tell me I am rank!”
“What?” chuckled King Aelwyn. He rose from the bed and came to her. Setting his hands on her shoulders, he breathed in the scent of her neck. Her knees buckled. “To me, your aroma is earthy and pure. I derive little pleasure from the false scents of perfume. Your natural cologne doesn’t deny your animal side.”
Entranced by Aelwyn’s velvet voice, Allerleirauh nearly forgot to be embarrassed. “I must bathe,” she whispered, though she did not want to leave his grasp.
“I must watch,” the king replied, his breath hot against her ear.
Chapter Ten
A hot bath was prepared for the king while Allerleirauh hid behind the bed curtains. She sat very quietly and listened. She recognized the voice chattering out there. It was Liam’s, directing the king’s servants to roll a wooden bathing tub before the fire. A series of footfalls sounded against the marble floors as they heaved. Water splashed into the tub until the wet heat of the room turned to a tropical fog. The humid air smelled of rosemary and peppermint.
When the last of his servants left the room, King Aelwyn drew back the bed curtain. His nakedness was hid under a robe velvety as the king’s deep voice. “I thought you might be more comfortable undressing if I did so first,” Aelwyn explained, his smiling mouth gleaming with white teeth. Hers must seem yellow and offensive…and yet, he had kissed her without complaint.
“I am so wretchedly foul,” Allerleirauh despaired.
“Don’t say that,” the king persuaded her. “There’s nothing foul about you. I only ordered up the bath so you could feel completely at ease. There’s nothing like the rejuvenating aromas of mint and rosemary. This bath will be as peaceful as mother’s womb.”
Mother. That word plucked at Lally’s heartstrings. It was mother’s dress as brilliant as starlight that allowed Allerleirauh to find this place, this moment, and now she fumbled with the back buttons to remove it. Her fingers slipped. They sabotaged each attempt.
“Let me help you,” Aelwyn offered, his voice soothing as warm milk.
Lally turned her back to the king and folded her golden hair over her shoulder as he deftly unbuttoned her dress. Sparkling like diamonds, it fell to the floor.
“Thank you,” she whispered, turning to face him. All she wore were her black boots, which Aelwyn knelt to remove. The putrid aroma of hard-working feet filled the air, even overwhelming the rosemary and mint of the bathwater. Allerleirauh’s throat clenched with embarrassment, but the king made no mention of it. He only moved nearer to her, his nose hovering by the gossamer hair below her navel. Inching closer, he pressed his lips against her pulsing mound.
Allerleirauh backed away. What had transpired since her last bath? She had taken a skunk, a bear, a wolf, a beaver, and she remembered not what else, inside her cunt. How could she allow this beautiful man, this love of her heart, into the same unwashed pit?
“My apologies,” offered the king. “I ought to have asked first.”
He took her reluctance for rejection. Lally ached for the dear man. “I must bathe first.” Lally ascended small wooden stairs and balanced on the edge of the high wooden tub. “You shall be mine and I shall be yours, but I must first wash away the unpleasantness of my past.”
“Let me help you,” he said.
“This I must do on my own,” she sighed, slipping into the warm bath. The water cleansed her. She submerged her whole self down into it. The scent of peppermint eased unrest, and rosemary prompted rejuvenation. Underwater, she could smell nothing, see nothing but the light above, feel nothing but the surrounding water, taste nothing but the herbs saturating her bathwater, hear nothing but her own heart beating. Lally tried to stay at the bottom of the tub, but her body’s effervescence propelled her upwards. The mysterious force drew her up to firelight and new life, until she ran out of breath and sprang from the water.
Her first sight was Aelwyn, a naked vision standing before her. Her first word was his name, her first step towards him. Sopping golden hair dripped against Allerleirauh’s shoulders as her breast floated on the surface of the water.
“May I enter your bath now?” asked the naked king, his eyes and penis both pointing helplessly at Allerleirauh’s coasting breasts.
Lally hesitated. “I am not yet clean and already the water is filthy.”
“I can wash your hands and feet with soap and crushed walnut shells, and your lovely face and tender parts with fine soap from abroad.”
The idea of those powerful hands, slick with soap, touching her skin was too tempting to resist. When she stood at full height in the tub, her breasts hit the cool air and her nipples hardened instantaneously. Allerleirauh could hardly blame the king for staring at her chest when her eyes were fixed on his straining cock. “If all this dirt cannot dissuade you, neither shall I,” she told him.
Her smile grew as King Aelwyn ascended the wooden stairs, cloth in one hand and soaps in the other. Half swimming, half walking, she went to him, pressing her palms to his cheeks. They must have been clean-shaven in the morning. Now they sprouted the slightest prickles of a beard.
Taking her hands in his, Aelwyn tsk’ed playfully at the dirt under her fingernails. “Answer me this, Allerleirauh,” he began, scrubbing her fingers with a rough soap. “How did a such a fair maiden ever get her hands so dirty?”
Sliding her arms around Aelwyn’s broad shoulders, Lally teased, “Who calls me a maiden?”
Lally waited for a look of surprise to appear on the king’s face, but he only smirked. “I’ll have to scrub you until your maidenhood returns,” he replied. Before she knew what was happening, Aelwyn was at the bottom of the basin, scrubbing her left foot. The shards of walnut shell in the king’s special soap tickled her sole. After coming up for air, he sank underwater and grabbed hold of Lally’s right ankle. In a fit of ticklish laughter, she grabbed the side of the tub to steady herself until the king emerged. “Your feet are now perfectly clean,” he said, with beads of water glimmering over his dark chest. “What part of this magnificent body should I wash next?”
Taking the fine soap and cloth from the basin stairs, Allerleirauh rubbed the two together until a rich lather consumed the fabric. “My face.”
Their fingers brushed as Aelwyn took the cloth from Lally’s hand. Like a magnet, her form was attracted to his: her hand to his hand, her body to his body, her self to his self. With soft strokes, Aelwyn washed Lally’s forehead, her cheeks, her nose and chin. Lally splashed her face with water.
Tossing her head to the side, Allerleirauh offered her slender neck to the king. “Clean here.” Alewyn slid his hand through her golden locks to steady her as he scrubbed the soot built up behind her ears. She stole the cloth away from him, hoping he hadn’t noticed how black it had become. Lifting her breasts from the water, she tempted, “These orbs require special attention. You must use your hands to clean them.”
Lally spun herself around, pressing her back against Aelwyn’s broad chest. His stiff penis pressed like a tree branch against her bottom. Slathering his hands with soap bubbles, she guided them around the periphery of her proud breasts. How long had it been sinc
e she’d looked at her body? The soap on her chest turned grey, and she quickly splashed the bubbles away.
“Start again,” she bid.
Aelwyn did as she requested, running his thumbs over Allerleirauh’s breasts. His cock seemed to harden along with her nipples. She had to touch it. Sliding a hand up the king’s muscular thigh as he squeezed her soapy breasts, Lally found his eager cock. She wanted to feel his rock-hardness deep inside her body.
“Please,” Lally whined. “Wash my nether regions. I want them perfectly clean when you enter my cavern.”
“Are you sure?” the king asked, hugging her around the waist. “I would be no gentleman if I made no attempt to protect your honour.”
Sliding against his body, she handed Aelwyn the soap. “My honour is not yours to protect, good king. I wish to make love with you.”
She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “I will do as you wish, princess.”
Why had he addressed her thus? Lally whipped around to face the king, but in a whirlwind of lust, they somehow started kissing before she could ask. His tongue undulated slowly while hers fought against it in violent thrashes. In Aelwyn’s hand, the smoothness of the fine soap caressed her lower lips. Lally wondered how much filth would be washed away.
Aelwyn released the soap and it popped up in front of Allerleirauh. His fingers swam in the waters of her cunt, teasing and pleasuring, releasing bursts of tingling warmth throughout her lower body. Held aloft by her buoyancy and the king’s hands, she turned and wrapped her legs around Aelwyn’s waist. Coiling her arms around his shoulders, she kissed his neck and sent her tongue travelling around his ear. The king released a deep growl, like a lion or a tiger.