“And they lived happily ever after.” With flourish, Lady Summers completed her daughter’s favorite fairytale, The Tale of Eros and Psyche. Since she was young, Lady Summers’ translated this ancient Greek myth, into a story in which she read to her daughter often.
“Mama, will my love story end happily ever after?” Elizabeth’s wide, youthful gaze studied the woman that sat by her side. Her mother’s regal features were slightly shaded by the sweeping bows of the English Elm. A flash of sadness filled her mother’s eyes, but was quickly replaced with warmth as she spoke to only daughter,
“If God is willing, my sweet child. If God is willing,” Lady Summers whispered, as she swept a wayward lock from her daughter’s brow, misplaced by the warm spring breeze.
Ten years later…
“My dearest husband, I beg of thee. Our daughter cannot be sent away; she is but a mere child!” Surrounded by tearful soft sobs, Lady Summers pleaded to her determined husband upon bended knee. With one hand, she clutched her handkerchief to her breast. The other she held tightly to his leg.
“Foolish woman! She is seventeen years of age! Other women of her station were betrothed years ago. Now these ladies are wedded, with titles of their own, managing households with many babes. I have entertained your plight long enough wife,” Lord Summers declared while forcefully pushing his wife aside.
With a sharp, biting command, Lord Summers ordered the servant for his daughter to be fetched and brought forward. Upon the servant’s leave, Lord Summers extracted his teary wife from the floor at his feet with a harsh grip.
Quickly bringing her to eye level. “Dry your tears dear wife. Your daughter will come forth seeking for your guidance. Once having been a Lady in Waiting, you can give her all knowledge of anticipating the Queen’s desires.” With a clenched jaw and wide, angry eyes he beheld Lady Summers, while biting out his words.
“Husband, it is not the Queen’s desires that lie in store for our daughter, but the King’s,” Lady Summers snapped.
Upon her words, he growled his response,
“It would do thee well to still your tongue! Your neck will be stretched for treason, while your vicious words continue to echo upon these halls, as you speak ill of the King. The King of England himself sequestered our daughter for his court. Her audience will be the least of her show of gratitude for such a privilege as this.”
“My tongue will be idle my lord, but my mind shall not,” Lady Summers responded. Her chin now held high, eyes blazing.
“Ah…there’s the wretch that has plagued my home for years. If your sharp tongue was used for pleasure, not biting words, which you seem to prefer, my visits to your bedchambers would not have abated all those years ago,” Lord Summers growled.
“You find your pleasures else where, I am sure, dear husband,” Lady Summers retorted.
“Regardless of bitter words and the masquerade of tears; which was a nice touch dearest wife, all was for naught. Our daughter will be within the hands of the King by the month’s end. Figuratively or Biblically…his majesty will decide.”
Before Lady Summers could respond, Elizabeth walked into the grand hall. Both pairs of eyes fell upon her; one filled with fright and tears, the other filled with mirth.
With a deep curtsey, Elizabeth hung her head low; showing both the Earl and Countess Summers profound respect. First, they were their titles, secondly her parents.
“My Lord, my Lady,” Elizabeth announced.
“Fair daughter! Are you well this morn?” Lord Summers greeted his daughter with a booming, jovial voice. Without another glance, he passed his teary wife, to fetch their daughter.
Elizabeth raised herself from the floor, as she stepped forward into her father’s outstretched arms. Lord Summers placed two chaste kisses upon either cheek before he pulled back. Still within an arm's length, he gazed upon her with a beaming smile.
A mirrored smile reflected back from Elizabeth’s full lips. Beneath her smile, her mind churned from her father’s uncharacteristically loving greeting and jubilant smile.
“I have the most gracious news my dear child!” Lord Summers’ arm wrapped around his daughter’s waist. He chatted excitedly into her ear, despite daggers, Lady Summers’ gaze bestowed upon her husband. He continued unaffected.
“By the weeks end, you will be traveling abroad to our native England. More specifically, to Whitehall Palace! The marvels of court await you. If it was not for the seven deadly sins, the ugly, green serpent of envy would be rising from within my very being!”
Before he could continue, Elizabeth pulled from his partial embrace. Facing him full on, she spoke,
“Father, when will our trip commence? I have always dreamed of gracing the King’s court, donned in my finest gown of gold…” A faraway stare filled her eyes as she continued, “My presence announced to all. Everyone, except the King and Queen of course, bowing to greet…Lady Elizabeth Summers…”
Her thoughts were drawn away quickly from her father’s sharp tone,
“Your mother and I shall not accompany you on this voyage.”
Elizabeth’s gaze settled upon her father. With a quirk of her brow she commented,
“Father, is it not unladylike to travel alone? Many retched persons and places lay between our home and the sanctuary of the King’s castle.” Elizabeth’s gaze was heavy with skepticism.
“Daughter, you needn’t remind your elders of rules set in place long before your birth. It would be wise to remember your sharp tongue may be overlooked within the walls of my household, or even encouraged…” Lord Summers’ focus settled upon Lady Summers seated form. With a sneer of disdain, his gaze returned to his daughter and continued, “ Insolence will not be tolerated in the least by the King nor his Queen!”
“I shall remember this while in their company my Lord. While I am not, my sharp tongue will serve me well among the knaves that litter the King’s court!” Elizabeth announced. Her chin held high, mirroring her mother’s earlier pose.
Lord Summers’ body coiled, as he prepared to strike his daughter with both words and hands. Only the knowledge that when the King’s chancellor arrived and beheld a mark upon her cheek, his neck would be stretched from the closest English Elm, held him back.
Lady Summers spoke before the fury that filled her husband’s gaze, was unleashed upon her daughter,
“Elizabeth, this is a wonderful opportunity for a young woman of your station. Becoming a Lady in Waiting for the Queen of England requires grace and poise of which you are the epitome. The King himself sequesters your presence. This honor bestowed upon our family, is of the utmost. Lady in Waiting is one of the highest titles, which one is not born into, unto an unwed woman such as you could hold.” A forced smile graced Lady Summers’ lips, contradicted the dread in her eyes.
Elizabeth understood that beneath her faux smile, her mother’s eyes told the truth. She knew her mother loathed the aspects of court. Although never a bitter word left Lady Summers’ lips regarding the ways of court, Elizabeth knew her mother had protected her. Since she was old enough, at the tender age of ten, when her father first broached the subject.
Upon her mother’s requests of Elizabeth’s complete avoidance from court, and the whispered stories from the past and present servants during their chores, filled her mind with all the knowledge she needed to possess. Corruption and lust were the intertwined heartbeats, which sustained and fueled each member of court. They were beasts in finery, nothing more.
“Do pray tell my lord, when is my voyage to commence?”
Bitter words tumbled from Elizabeth’s lips, despite the now faux smile that graced them. With the final straw being laid, Lord Summers raised his hand to strike his daughter. Only the servant’s announcement stilled his hand,
“Lord Summers…William Pratt, the Duke of Suffolk!”
Upon this declaration, Elizabeth’s face fell, eyes widened. With a renewed sinister smirk, Lord Summers spoke,
“Does that answer your query, my dearest daughter?”
**** ****
One-month prior… Whitehall Palace
Thunderous footfalls reverberated off the walls; impatience marring his regal features, the King headed toward the Duke of Suffolk’s bedchambers. Confidants in every sense since they were young boys still did not lessen his recent agitation towards his Grace. His presence had been desired over an hour ago. The delay in his attendance was the reason, for the King’s brisk gait. Without a knock or a declaration of his presence, the King stormed through the wooden door of Sir William’s bedchambers.
Upon his enormous four-poster bed, William’s hips shifted with rigorous momentum. Griping fingers dug deep within a woman’s waist, as she met his thrusts with vigor. Feminine mews intertwined with the echoes of flesh meeting flesh. His brutal pace continued until he witnessed the King’s presence,
“Your Majesty…” William's hips stilled, as he tried to extract himself from the woman before him.
Upon the King instructions of “Please, continue” William pace renewed with equal voracity.
“Your Majesty…please, relax. I will be but a moment…or two.”
Despite William’s words flowing in quick pants from the act he had resumed, formality and respect laced his every word.
“Your Grace, please take leisure. From the whispers that spilled from the ladies of court, you are a sight to behold. Poetry in motion,” The King declared as he sat upon an oak box chair.
The woman’s wide eyes fell upon the King of England as he sat bedside. As she tried to pull from William’s, he held her hips firmly. A quick slap was administered upon her bottom for good measure.
“Ah…ah! Not yet done, kitten. Need not to worry. The King does appreciate a woman with a firm backside and talented mouth such as yours.”
William’s purred words were accompanied by another swift slap. The woman’s mouth opened in a silent scream as he continued his ministrations.
“See, your majesty. Her mouth is pursed for your willing cock, if you so choose. Quite lovely, her fondness for bestowing pleasures upon one’s manhood,” his words continued, as his hips gained in speed.
“No thank you, Your Grace. Perhaps another time?” With a slight nod, the King responded with a mischievous smirk.
“Certainly, Your Majesty.”
After numerous more thrusts, William growled his release. Following several slower plunges, he pulled from the woman’s core. Instantly, she scrambled from the bed. Within moments, she collected her clothing, curtsied in front of the King, and left the chamber.
William pulled his nude form from the mattress with a satisfied feline grace. Placing his breeches upon his legs, he spoke,
“Your Majesty, your presence is cordially welcomed. Please excuse my grievous delay in greeting you properly.”
Upon his words, William bowed in front of the now standing King. With a slight nod, the King acknowledged his respect.
“Your Grace,” the King nodded, then continued, “Now, William. Find some suitable clothes. Ones not filled with the scent of a woman’s quim, and join me for a ride, within the woods. A pressing matter must be discussed; one the eyes and ears of court need not to be privy to.” With that, the King turned and exited the Duke of Suffolk’s bedchambers.
William called upon his servants to aid in his dressing. Within moments, two young men entered with his clothing. One servant presented an ebony peplum doublet, with silver embroidery and finest white, silk shirt. The other servant carried his black riding pants and leather riding boots.
He stood stone still, as the young men presented each item and aided with its placement. Once each garment was positioned, he exited his chambers and headed to meet the waiting King.
**** ****
With quick clips, William made his way through the courtyard. The King sat astride his stallion, while a stable hand held the reins of his steed. He was presented with the reins following a bow and “Your Grace,” which spilled from the handler’s lips.
In moments, he mounted his horse and took the reins. With a sharp cry from the King, dual heels dug deep within each of the animal’s sides. Both men took leave of the castle walls. Guards upon their mounts followed the men. Per the King’s request, they maintained their distance.
Tufts of damp, forest earth were uprooted, as the men pushed their steeds to their limits. Whoops of laughter fell from their throats as they rode. Both men pressed their horses while indulging in their typical competitive nature.
Despite these men knowing one another since childhood, the fact that Henry was the King, William tightened the reins slightly. After countless moments passed, each man being equally matched, they raced.
Once the King passed William, he declared his success of out riding the other man, with another bellow of hearty laughter. William smiled and nodded acceptance of his loss. Slowing their gait in increments, until a leisurely pace was achieved, each man guided their steed to the river to drink.
"William, now that I have yours full attention, I will inform you of the nature of this ride,” Henry stated as his gloved hand mindlessly ran over the stallion’s raven coat. William silently looked upon him as he continued,
“There is a young maiden located in England’s occupied lands in France. Her father, Earl Summers, is my Ambassador in the King of France’s court. He and many others have told me, Lady Elizabeth Summers is simply exquisite; fair hair of spun gold, eyes green as the finest silken threads, petite yet breathtaking, womanly features. Despite her lack of experience in court, she is well versed with knowledge of literature, the arts and all the facets for a woman of her station to possess. Countess Summers was a Lady in Waiting for my mother. Grace and poise are bred deep.” A look of longing filled the King’s features, as his speech stopped.
“Your Majesty, she sounds fascinating indeed. May I inquire my duties surrounding Lady Elizabeth?”
“William, you will voyage to procure this rare gem. All arrangements have been dealt with. As we speak, you servants are packing your belongings for this trip. You set sail morrow, at first light. Lady Elizabeth will become Queen Catherine’s Lady in Waiting,” Henry declared with a firm tone.
“Morrow I will set sail, Your Majesty.” With a bow, William accepted his voyage and means for his trip.
Once the horses were well rested, the men continued back towards Whitehall Palace. Upon their arrival, each man took leave of one another. The King took leave, to handle his affairs of state. William took leave, to handle affairs of his own, another willing woman to warm his bed.
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!