preserves, along with slices of apple and cheese and several cups of hot tea, Roel sighed in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair.
“Ah, Roel, I love to see a man eat. In that, you are much like my brothers,” said Celeste.
“We are all pigs, eh?” said Roel, grinning.
Celeste laughed. “Non. Instead, you all have healthy appetites.”
“I was famished, Princess, three days with nought but thin broth and bread crumbs. ’Tis not the best way to a man’s heart.”
Roel was dressed in a dark grey cotton shirt, grey to match his eyes. His black breeks were cinched by a silver-buckled black belt, and he was shod in black boots. Bathed and clean-shaven, his shoulder-length raven-dark hair yet a bit damp, he cut quite a handsome figure, and Celeste often found she was staring.
As for herself, Celeste wore a long-sleeved, pale green gown, and up and across a narrow inset white bodice panel, green laces zigzagged from waist to low neckline. Striking, she was, and her face and form took Roel’s breath away, and his gaze oft met hers.
They sat across from one another at a small table in a secluded, walled garden. Crocuses bloomed among moss-covered stones through which water trickled into a clear pool. A small willow tree leaned over the mere, its dangling branches astir in the springlike zephyr that had managed to climb o’er the vine-covered wall. Somewhere nearby a finch called for a mate, and was answered by the flutter of wings. And in the pale glancing light of the midmorning sun, Roel and Celeste looked upon one another, their two hearts beating as one.
“Princess, I-”
“Roel, I-”
They both spoke at once, and-
“After you-”
“After you-”
They did it again.
Roel made a motion as if buttoning his lip and pointed at Celeste, and she burst out laughing, as did he.
And finally, palm up, he gestured to her, inviting her to speak.
“I don’t know what I was going to say,” said Celeste, and again they both broke into laughter.
“Let’s go for a walk,” said Roel. “You can show me this estate of yours.”
“Oh, Roel, are you certain you can? You might reopen your wound.”
“Five stitches,” said Roel as he stood and stepped
’round the table. “That’s all it took for Gilles to sew me up, rather much like darning a sock. As I said, it was but a scratch, and surely I can take a stroll. After all, it was no short journey from my bed to this table.”
“But what of the poison?” asked Celeste, looking up at him.
“Ah, Gilles’ vile potions seem to have entirely rid me of that. Come, let us stroll awhile.” Roel stepped behind Celeste’s chair and pulled it back and handed her up. And then she was in his arms, and he leaned down and gently kissed her.
“Oh, Princess, I didn’t mean-or rather I did, but-” She kissed him again, and passion flared, and hearts hammered, and Celeste felt a glorious fire sweeping throughout her body.
Ignoring the fact that he felt himself coming erect, Roel pulled her tight against him and kissed her deeply, and he wanted nothing more than to take her then and there.
And Celeste wanted nothing more than to be taken then and there.
“Ahem,” sounded a polite cough.
They broke apart and turned to see an older man standing at hand.
“Yes, Louis?” asked Celeste, somewhat breathlessly, her heart yet racing madly.
“Shall I clear the table, madam?” asked Louis, discreetly staring off at something beyond the garden wall.
Roel only half paid attention to what Celeste was saying as she took him on a wide-ranging tour. And for her part, Celeste seemed greatly distracted as she pointed out trivialities and failed to mention key points concerning the grounds and the splendid chateau.
Celeste directed Roel’s attention to the striations in the marble floor of the grand welcoming foyer, but said nought of the great circular seal centered within the stone depicting a cherry tree in full blossom. Nor did she say ought of the skylight above, the leaded glass depicting the very same thing.
Broad staircases swept up and around each side of the hall and to the floor above, and on the third floor beyond, balconies looked down from the embracing rooms, but Celeste managed to speak of only the knurls on the balusters.
They visited an extensive library with hundreds of books and scrolls and tomes, and Celeste pointed out her favorite chair.
She took him to a game room, where portraits of her pere and mere and brothers and sister looked out from gilt frames. The room was furnished with tables and chairs, and ready for play were taroc cards and
In the music room laden with viols and flutes and harpsichords and drums and other such, Celeste gestured at a small violin, the one she played as a child.
Outside she walked him through the gardens, and talked of plying a trowel. She showed him the stables, and there Roel found his black placidly munching on oats. The horse seemed more interested in his next mouthful than in his knight.
They strolled past gazebos and fountains and sundials and other such objects of the manor. Although Roel now and then paid close attention, he spent most of his time admiring Celeste.
Roel was introduced to gardeners and stablemen, to servants and seamstresses, to the smith and farrier, to laundresses and hunters, to the keeper of the mews where messenger falcons were housed, and to many of the other staff of the considerable manor. But the only name that remained in his mind was
And though Celeste knew she was babbling but could not seem to stop, and though Roel tried to attend but failed, they basked in one another’s company, as if nothing else in the world mattered but the presence of the other.
And neither could forget the burning passion of their kiss, the desire set aflame, the wanting of one another. It was as an unquenchable fire.
That evening they had dinner in an intimate chamber, one with a table just for two. What they ate, neither could say, for they were completely entranced with one another. Later, dressed against the chill of the spring night, they sat in a gazebo and watched the moon rise.
Finally, they returned to the manor, and in the hallway they espied Henriette lurking in the shadows, waiting for Celeste’s safe return. Roel escorted Celeste to her chamber door and with a rather chaste kiss he bade her good night. Roel then stepped into his own room, and reliving Celeste’s every move, every gesture, every smile, he made ready for bed. He crawled under his covers and spent a long while staring at the silver moonlit world beyond his windows.
And then the door between his chamber and Celeste’s opened, and dressed in nought but a filmy negligee, the princess came padding in, moonlight revealing, then shadows concealing, as she passed in and out of the silvery beams.
“My lady?” said Roel, starting up, but she gestured for him to remain abed.
“Sieur, I was not satisfied by that peck at my door,” said Celeste, crawling in beside him. She curled into his embrace, and he kissed her gently and then fiercely and she hungrily responded in kind. His manhood was hard and pressing against her, and she could feel the beat of his pulse. Celeste paused a moment to pull her negligee up and off and cast it to the floor. And as he doffed his nightshirt, the garment falling aside neglected, she whisked the covers away. And she lay back and looked at him now above her.
“Beloved,” he whispered, and momentarily paused, gazing into her sweet face in the diffuse radiance of moonglow. And he softly kissed her, and she him, and then he slipped inside her. She moaned in pleasure, as did he, and they slowly began making love.
Some moments later and outside the door, Henriette leaned forward in her chair and covered her ears
