by Kai Andersen
Praise for the writing of Kai Andersen
Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty
This is how grown up fairy tales are supposed to be...very hot and very adult. The Question of Royalty will make you squirm while you hope for a happily ever after.
-- Treva Harte, author of The Deviants (Loose Id)
Cinderella's never met a prince-charming like Frederick. The Question of Royalty has everything a good fairy tale should: a handsome prince, a beautiful princess, wicked stepmother and sister, magic, and...hot, steamy, sex!? A recommend read.
-- Sheri Gilmore, author of One Thing Leads To Another (Loose Id)
With The Question of Royalty, Kai Andersen brings you a delightfully erotic fairy tale. This story is a wonderful blend of carnal pleasures and romance, guaranteed to heat your blood and melt your heart.
-- Jill Noelle, author of Mine (Loose Id)
The Question of Royalty by Kai Andersen is unquestionably delicious!
-- Daria Karpova, author of Loose Diamonds (Loose Id)
Kai Andersen captures the magical essence of childhood fairy tales, while adding a dose of wit and steamy sensuality to the mix. There is no question about it. Ms. Andersen has a hit with The Question of Royalty.
-- Melissa Schroeder, author of A Little Harmless Sex (Loose Id)
TALES OF ENCHANTMENT 1:
THE QUESTION OF ROYALTY
Kai Andersen
www.loose-id.com
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
* * * * *
This book is rated:
For explicit sexual content and graphic language.
Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty
Kai Andersen
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by
Loose Id LLC
1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29
Carson City NV 89701-1215
www.loose-id.com
Copyright © November 2004 by Kai Andersen
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 1-59632-037-0
Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Linda Kusiolek
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
www.loose-id.com
Chapter One
Thunder rolled across the wide expanse of the land. Lightning lit the dark sky. The wind howled, making a loud whooshing sound as it slipped through the trees. Rain poured down in torrents, pelting him from all sides.
Prince Frederick of Mithirien spurred his horse onward, glorying in the hard sting of the rain on his face. On both sides of the narrow dirt road, trees swayed and leaves danced in conjunction with the wind. His head lolled back as he laughed. His heart filled with exhilaration at the sight of Mother Nature in all her vehemence and glory. Behind him, he could hear the thundering gallop of his companions’ horses as they raced to catch up with him.
He crouched low over Dauntless’s neck and urged his horse to gallop faster, willing him to be the first to reach the stables located behind the hunting lodge. Despite the raging storm, Frederick’s seat was graceful as he moved in sync with the horse’s gait. He felt the heaving sides beneath his thighs and the hard pounding of Dauntless’s hoofs on the uneven ground, enabling them to reach the stables well ahead of anybody -- even Rodin, his best friend, foremost bodyguard, and one of the top horsemen in all of Mithirien.
As Dauntless reached the stables, the stable boy ran up, then held the horse steady as Frederick jumped down. After caressing Dauntless’s nose and murmuring words of affection and praise, he allowed the stable boy to lead away his prized stallion. He then stood in the pouring rain and waited for the rest of his men. His head was tilted at a cocky angle and his stance was proud.
A moment later, Rodin drew up in front of him. Breath heaving, Rodin jumped down and clapped Frederick heartily on the back. Good humor sparkled in his eyes. “It seems that I can never beat you, Frederick.”
Frederick slung an arm around Rodin’s shoulder. “There’s always next time, friend. C’mon, let’s get out of this storm.” He urged Rodin toward the lodge. “I want a hot bath for my freezing body and a hot meal to fill my empty stomach.”
Rodin laughed. “You took the words right out of my mouth. Pity it stormed so suddenly. I was looking forward to hunting some fat rabbit for dinner.”
“There’s always” -- Frederick started to say, and was joined by Rodin -- “next time, friend.”
Both men laughed.
At six feet two, Frederick topped Rodin by a few inches. He was also leaner in build, which made him just a little quicker than Rodin during their sparring matches. He knew, though, that it was neither his height nor his amazing ability with the sword that drew women in droves to his side, but the startling good looks of his ancestors with which he was greatly blessed. Of course, being a prince didn’t hurt either.
“Don’t you think it odd, the way it stormed so suddenly?” Rodin shouted to be heard over the pounding rain.
Frederick glanced at him thoughtfully as they made their way to the lodge. “You think the gods are playing with us?” He thought that Rodin, having been educated with him by the royal tutors, would be free of those superstitions.
“Yes!”
“But we’ve always had sudden downpours here in Mithirien!”
“Believe me, Frederick, this feels different. Why would it pour on the very day that we decided to go hunting? Visibility suddenly became so poor that we didn’t even manage to shoot that deer we saw darting through the underbrush.”
Frederick shrugged.
They reached the end of the long stable. Turning left at the bend in the road, they caught their first glimpse of the lodge since leaving it this morning.
The royal hunting lodge was situated in the heart of the great Repling Forest, which was located about twenty miles from the castle near the border of Mithirien. Aside from the natural forest animals, the king had stocked it with numerous varieties of deer, boar, fox, and such other animals that struck a hunter’s fancy. These animals were free to roam within the acre of land separated from the rest of the forest with high fences to protect unwary travelers as well as to preserve the natural ecology of the forest. The hunting lodge itself was a sturdy, three-story structure. The huge oak logs of which it was made lent it a quiet, rustic quality.
They arrived at the lodge. Frederick was reaching for the knob when it was suddenly opened from inside.
“Stepmother!”
The present queen of Mithirien loved the comforts and entertainments of the castle. Frederick couldn’t believe that she’d come voluntarily to the lodge, where the furnishings were simple and sparse. He remembered his father having to bribe her to come when the king had wanted to go hunting three years ago.
Behind him, Rodin hasti
ly bowed. “Your Majesty!”
“Come on in, you silly boy.” The queen blinked against the raindrops that fell on her face. “What are you thinking, to be out in such weather?”
“Is Father here?” Frederick hovered at the doorstep, wanting to be able to make a fast getaway, just in case. It would be just like his father to follow him here so that he could continue harping on his favorite topic at the moment: marriage.
“No. No, he’s not, so you can come in now.” She turned away from the door. “The rain’s making a mess of my hair and clothes.”
Frederick stepped in and was greeted by the cheery sight of the fire crackling merrily. He strode over to the grate and tried to unfreeze his limbs.
“Go on up to your room, Frederick.” The queen urged him toward the stairs. “I’ll get the servants to bring up hot water for your bath. You must be chilled.”
“Have the same done for Rodin and the rest.” Frederick had one foot on the lowest step of the stairs when he spied the short, rotund woman who bustled into the room. He stopped and turned to stare at her. Something about her made him suspicious. Who was she? He had never seen her before. The curious thing was that she possessed a confidence and carriage he knew none of his servants possessed. Was she one of his stepmother’s retinue? How many did the queen bring, anyway? All thoughts of some quiet time for the coming days crept away silently. “Who are you?” He directed the question at her, his voice harsher than he intended.
Surprise and hurt flickered across the kindly face as she suddenly stopped in the middle of the room. Her plump waist quivered.
Frederick was instantly remorseful. A moment later, he wondered what he had to feel guilty about. He was the master here. He had a right to know about the people he was housing.
“Why, Your Highness, two years gone and you don’t remember me?” She gasped theatrically, one hand flying to her bosom. After heaving a sigh, she walked toward him, one finger wagging at him, scolding. “Shame on you!”
No, glide was a better word, he thought absently as he watched her. There was something about her that suggested ... she was not quite human. But before he could follow that line of thought, he recalled her words. He normally had a good memory for faces, and he was sure -- very sure -- that he had never seen her before.
“Do I know you?” He couldn’t help the uncertain tone in his voice. There was something about her that commanded the respect of kings, something that suggested he wouldn’t have forgotten her even if he had seen her only once before. At the back of his mind, he was aware of his stepmother watching with an impatient frown on her face.
The woman stopped in front of him and tilted her head. He looked down into clear blue eyes, eyes that were young and, at the same time, old.
“But surely you remember me, Your Highness. I used to call you Freddie-boy, remember?” She touched him lightly on the arm. “Whenever you came here with your father and that lovely mother of yours, I’d bake you your favorite --”
“Blueberry cookies!” The memories rushed into his brain all at once. He remembered having skinned his knee as a little boy. This woman had cleaned and bandaged him. He remembered her yummy cookies and how he always seemed to have his hand caught in the jar. Funny, he had forgotten these memories ... until now. He even knew her name. Warm feelings filled him as he grasped her hand. “Mrs. Goode-Heart, how nice to see you. Why didn’t I see you when we dropped our things this morning?”
“I was out doing the wash, my boy. I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish your hunt. But I expect you’ll be doing a different kind of hunting soon.” She winked. “Well, I’d better go and prepare dinner.”
“What --”
She had turned away and walked out of the hall without a word to anyone else.
“Who’s that?” The queen raged. “Who does she think she is?”
A series of heavy thumpings from the direction of the door cut through her regal fury. Ignoring the queen, Frederick strode toward the door and opened it himself ...
And fell in lust.
Chapter Two
Blood roared in Frederick’s ears, blood hurried through his heart singing a fast thump-thump-thump-di-da-thump-thump-thump, and blood rushed to his groin. He experienced the most pleasurable ache.
Rain blew in his face, but he was unaware of it. His world receded, containing only the two of them.
The girl who stood before him wasn’t the most beautiful he had ever seen, with her hair in dark, wet, scraggly lumps about her head and her face chalky white from the cold. But there was something about her enormous, beseeching green eyes that touched him. Or maybe it was the way her wet clothes were plastered about her full-bodied figure, molding each rise and hollow of her charms. Whatever it was, Frederick swallowed as he saw her dark nipples, pebbled from the cold and thrusting against the thin material. Her arms were about her small waist, as if to ward off the cold. And she was shivering uncontrollably.
“S-sir?” Her voice trembled. “Can I . . .would you . . .would you be kind . . .let me stay for a night? Just for one night . . .”
Frederick shook his head, coming out of his trance. “Of course. Come in out of the rain; you must be cold.” Because he couldn’t help himself, he took hold of her hands as soon as he had closed the door behind her. He rubbed them, enjoying their cool and silky texture.
The girl looked at him wide-eyed, her entire body trembling.
“Frederick! You’re back --” He was barely aware of his stepsister Giselda, running into the middle of the hall. “Who is she?” Stalking to them, she swiped his hands away. “Don’t touch her! She might be a tramp and have a disease or -- or -- something!”
The girl cringed away from them.
“Stop it! You’re scaring her.” While Giselda pouted, Frederick turned to the girl and spoke softly, one hand outstretched. “It’s all right. We’ll help you get warm, then you can take dinner with us and stay here for the night.”
He ordered the servants to bring hot water and a tub up to the guest room. He was about to usher the girl up the stairs when Giselda intervened. “Now, Frederick, I’ll take care of the girl. It’s not suitable for you to help her. After all, you’re a prince.”
Frederick wanted to protest. So what if he were a prince? It was his pleasure to help. And what was wrong with him showing the girl to the guest room? He hadn’t only been showing bar maids, chambermaids, and all kinds of maids to his room for years, he had also been helping them out of their clothes. In fact, he’d probably make a better helper than Giselda, who needed a maid to help her with her clothes each day. Just as he opened his mouth, she beat him to it.
“Don’t worry, Frederick, I’ll take good care of her. I’ll even lend her one of my dresses to wear.”
He saw Giselda poke the girl sharply in the ribs to get her to move in the direction of the stairs. Before he could rebuke her, they were gone.
* * * * *
Serena shivered violently, wishing the servants would hurry up with her hot wash water. Though the lodge was infinitely warmer than the storm outside, she was still cold and her feet were numb. It would seem that her tongue and brain had dulled too, causing her to react the way she had a few moments earlier.
Or perhaps it was the handsome man who had caused her to become tongue-tied. With eyes blue as the ocean and hair as beautiful as spun gold, he had stolen whatever breath she had left from her desperate dash to find shelter from the storm. He had stared at her like that old king her father had wanted her to marry: with warmth, intense longing, and something else. But his gaze hadn’t inspired revulsion. Instead, it called to something deep within her, something that awakened for the first time in her entire life.
She had stared dreamily at his compelling face before the cold caused her to shudder, thus breaking the spell. His hands had burned indelible prints through her when he had taken her chilled hands in his, emanating much-needed warmth to every corner of her being. She almost believed she didn’t need a hot bath.
“He
ed my words, girl.”
Jarred out of her thoughts, Serena was startled to see the dark-haired woman who had prodded her up the stairs earlier advancing now with a menacing glint in her eyes. She cowered against the bed at the intense dislike she saw. She wondered what she had done, or what she had not done. It’s impossible to tell, with people from another land. Perhaps she had unwittingly failed to observe a local custom and that had offended her host and --
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from the prince. You hear?”
Serena nodded dumbly, almost hysterical in her relief. This was just a woman staking her claim! She was welcome to him, for all that Serena cared. Had she somehow wandered into a den of lunatics? This woman before her was so beautiful, it put the flowers to shame. How could she think Serena was a threat to her? For that matter, what was the prince -- the handsome man, she presumed -- to her?
“Good.” Serena heard the wealth of satisfaction in the woman’s voice. “See that you do. Because he’s my betrothed, for all his philandering ways. We’re to be married soon.”
Serena longed to wipe the smug smile from the woman’s lips. She didn’t know why she felt as if a vise was being clamped around her heart. She wondered if it was the result of being out in the cold for too long. She forced her stiff lips to move. “I wish you happiness, my lady.”
“You might as well know. He’s my stepbrother, but I’ve been promised to him since I was born. So my mother eventually marrying the king didn’t affect the betrothal at all.” Several knocks sounded on the door. “Ah, the servants are here. Enjoy your bath, girl. I’ll get my maid to bring you some clothes.”