Knight First Draft

I stood at the window staring out across the palace gardens and tried to hold back the tears. Many times I had stood at this same window, sometimes sad, sometimes happy – always alone. It wasn’t a rule or anything, but the first few times I’d stood there I had wanted to be alone. I guess my attendants now just assumed I wanted it that way all the time.

On the far side of the grounds I could see the massive stone structure that housed the garrison of the King’s Personal Guard, the elite fighting force who were charged with protecting the King and Queen wherever they went. It was too far to see anyone on the grounds, though. On the days they practiced firing you could hear the shots, but the only real sound now was a few birds in the distance. It was peaceful – or it would be if I wasn’t so upset.

A tear rolled down my cheek and I hastily swiped it away. I wouldn’t do for the queen to be found weeping should someone call for me. This window offered an excellent view of the hedge maze on the grounds. I traced the paths with my eyes, focusing on the correct way through the maze, as a way to distract me. I had just reached the exit of the maze when there was a knock on the door.

I blinked and swiped another tear off my cheek before calling out. “Come in.” I turned towards the door, waiting to see who was disturbing me.

The door opened and Anders, one of the four lieutenants from the guard, stepped into the room, then bowed. “Your Majesty, the king has requested your presence.”

It was just like Lucian to send for me instead of bothering to come see me himself. I nodded, but then another tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. I hastily turned away, but behind me I heard Anders close the door and approach.

He handed me a handkerchief and I took it. I looked up at him, met his eyes, and swallowed hard. While most of the men of the guard I liked, he was special. He was exceptionally good looking, with beautiful brown eyes and an easy smile. He was a consummate gentleman, while also being an excellent sword fighter and the best shot in the regiment. 

He made me laugh and told interesting stories. And, sometimes, when he looked at me the rest of the world fell away and I wished I wasn’t a queen. It seemed there was some sentiment he was holding back, something he wanted to say, if only I wasn’t royalty. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, though. Perhaps he didn’t want me the way I wanted him.

His face was solemn as he stood not saying anything. I’m sure one of my attendants would be asking if I was alright, or even ignoring my distress, but not Anders. He seemed to sense I needed something else. I blinked, but the tears wouldn’t abate. I clenched my jaw to hold back a sob and raised the handkerchief to wipe my eyes. The scent of leather and spice hit me – a scent that was uniquely him.

I lowered my hand, and clenched the handkerchief in my fist. My presence was requested elsewhere and I needed to get myself under control. It was no use thinking about what it would feel like to lean on Anders, to tuck my head under his chin and breathe him in. After all, I was the queen – destined to lie only with my husband. And bear him a son as soon as possible. I clenched my jaw again at the thought that it would be at least another month before that was a possibility.

I stared out the window as Anders stood next to me. I said quietly, “It was my twentieth birthday when my father told me I was to be married. He said it like it was the best present ever. To give myself to a man nineteen years my senior whom I had never met. All for the good of uniting Frapane with Jador.” He nodded, but still said nothing.

I scoffed. “It wasn’t about uniting our countries, it was about placating Lucian so he would stop asking for help in this war against Enestpon. My father doesn’t care about the Elves invasion. And Lucian is so desperate for an heir, he accepted the union and gave up on the idea of ever getting Frapanian soldiers on this side of the sea.”

Anders leaned his hip on the deep window ledge next to me. “Do you wish to return home?”

I shook my head. “I love Jador, that’s not why I’m upset.” I took a deep breath. “My twenty-first birthday is next month, which means I’ve been married for eight months. And for eight months I’ve failed at my duty.”

“An heir?”

“An heir.” Then, even though I knew it was not something women shared with men, let alone a queen share with her subjects, but I had to get it off my chest or it would smother me, I said, “I don’t know what else I can do. I see him two or three times every week, yet for all eight months my monthlies have arrived on schedule, like clockwork. And once again this morning I know I’m still not pregnant.”

“They say these things can take time.” He gave me a sympathetic look, not reacting with surprise or disgust to my admission of intimate details.

I sighed. “Is there something I’m doing wrong? I know he gets pleasure from our…liaisons. Sometimes I do as well, although he doesn’t seem to care about that.”

He gently touched my arm. “You are a beautiful woman and I’m sure the king enjoys being with you.” He paused, then met my eyes and said quietly, “I can’t believe any man wouldn’t enjoy your attention.”

He held my gaze for a long moment, and my chest grew tight as my heart started beating faster. “Would it happen if I enjoyed it more?”

“I don’t believe that’s required, but I do believe that the woman should be as satisfied as the man.” He smiled gently.

“Is there some trick, some technique, I can employ?” I knew I shouldn’t be having this conversation – ran the risk of being labeled wanton or worse. Yet in that moment, I didn’t care. He had a reputation for being an excellent lover, one that was well earned according to the attendants I overheard once. He must know something that would help me. Some way that I could continue to sleep with my husband as long as it took.

He studied my face for a long moment before responding. “There are always tricks and techniques a woman can employ to satisfy a man – it’s not difficult to bring us pleasure. But the women we continue to want are the ones that clearly crave our touch, that are enthusiastic regardless of experience.”

I couldn’t imagine being enthusiastic to be with Lucian. He wasn’t a bad lover, exactly, just an impatient one. When he touched me, I could tell he wanted to bring me pleasure, but the touch was too brief. His kisses were always rough – I suppose he thought they were passionate. Each encounter was much the same – I would react positively, but it was over before I could get any real enjoyment.

I frowned. “I suppose with the right man, that wouldn’t be difficult.” I looked at him, then boldly let my gaze travel over him from head to feet. His curly hair was long enough to brush his collar and I wanted to run my fingers through it. The memory of the one time I’d seen him without a shirt came to me and I felt my cheeks grow warm. My gaze paused at his throat, and I saw him swallow. From the corner of my eye, I saw him grip his sword, and I wondered if he was uncomfortable with my perusal. I turned and looked out over the grounds again. “Alas, I don’t believe the king is that man.”

He was quiet for moment, then he spoke, his voice low and rough. “A man should tell a woman what he likes about her, how she makes him feel.” I turned to meet his eyes as he continued, “He should let her know how beautiful she is, how the color of her eyes reminds him of the sea on a summer day. He should tell her how he wishes he could let her hair free about her shoulders so he could feel it between his fingers. How he admires her lips when he believes she’s not watching, wondering if they taste like the wine she just sipped. How he imagines holding her close, feeling her lean into him as he kisses her. How he longs to hear her breathe his name in his ear as he touches her.”

My heart pounded as his words cast a spell over me. As he spoke, he leaned closer, till his lips were inches from my ear. His breath over my skin raised goosebumps and I clenched my fists to avoid reaching for him. When he stopped, he leaned back, putting distance between us once again. His eyes were dark, darker than usual, and his gaze was intense. Warmth rushed to my core and I struggled to catch my breath.

I swallowed, then licked my lips. His gaze dropped to watch then returned to my eyes once again. I knew what I wanted to say, but it was wrong, knew that I shouldn’t be here with him like this. Yet, he made me feel alive and I didn’t want to move. “Then,” I tried to say more, but nothing came out. I took a deep breath, and gripped the slate edge of the window sill to steady myself before trying again. “Then, I suppose a woman should tell a man what she thinks of him in return.”

He placed his hand over mine, his thumb stroking over the back of my hand. I looked down at where he touched me, then back up to meet his eyes. There was silence between us for a long moment as my heart pounded. “She would tell him how she watches him, how she thrills at the strength, the pure maleness of him when he moves. She would let him know how her pulse races when he looks in her eyes, how she longs to touch him when he’s near….How she worries her hands would tremble if she were to undo his jacket – one button at a time – until she could touch his skin, feel his muscles under her fingers.” I paused, aware of how close he was, how one step would bring me against him. I dropped my voice to just above a whisper. “If she could admit it, she’d tell him it was him she thought of, him she wanted to touch her. She’d admit she wanted to know what his kisses would be like on her neck…her…body. How she wished it was him with her, above her.”

He groaned softly and leaned toward me. I wanted him to kiss me, was ready to cross that line. But, he only rested his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. “Your Majesty, we shouldn’t – can’t…”

“This is wrong, isn’t it?”

He pulled back and nodded. “Perhaps not in the eyes of the Goddess, but certainly in the eyes of the law.”

His hand still rested on mine, and I reluctantly pulled away. “Then perhaps we should leave. I have been summoned, have I not?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

I smoothed my skirts, and realized I still clutched his handkerchief. I tucked it into a hidden pocket on the front of my dress and straightened my shoulders. He straightened as well, and stepped away from me by several feet. Our gazes met and held for several heartbeats before he turned and moved to open the door to my chamber. Even though he wasn’t beside me any longer, I could still feel his hand on mine, could feel how his thumb had stroked me.

Sleeping with the queen was treason – the highest crime in the land. If only my heart agreed that committing it wasn’t worth the risk.