Taxing Beauty

" Taxing Beauty"

by Sally J

Chapter Three

Julia had the ride of her life on Sir Roger's steed. Her head was floating somewhere around the blinding noon sun and she thought she'd swoon from the sensations. The horse galloped too swiftly for her to concentrate on anything but keeping her balance, and the once familiar countryside reseeded in a blur of memory.

She thought back to how she'd made this happen. She felt powerful and powerless at the same time. She'd actually been the catalyst in her own life. She'd been captured by the prince and escorted to the castle on the royal horses. She felt thrilled, petrified, and dizzy from her dueling emotions.

Sir Roger made her feel safe within the grasp of his strong arms, but her insides melted with the excitement of being held so tightly against his body. She'd ridden horses all her life, but never before had she been so aware of the life force energy between her legs.

The long ride was over too soon, as the battlements pierced the horizon. Her eyes opened wider as the seriousness of her journey started to hit her. She was going into her people's castle. Her father once said, "A guest of the castle for honor, or for shame, either way, it'd be the defining moment of a man's life." Does the same truth hold for a woman? If so, what kind of guest was she?

The prince signaled to two guards at the front gate. They bowed, but instead of lowering the gate, they rode around to the East Tower and stopped at a smaller gate, guarded by one guard. Her heart pounded quickly and powerfully. The prince said something jocular to the guard, made a gesture with his head to Julia, and the men laughed. Sir Roger pulled Julia down from the horse without a word and led her gently to the open doorway. She lowered her head and fought back a hot tear. The guard smiled widely at her and her sadness felt like loss, but of what, she wasn't sure.

The prince led the way through the small milling crowd inside the side courtyard. The horses were led to the stables, and just as casually, Julia was led into through a stone archway into a great hall. Her hands were still tied behind her and she really wanted Sir Roger to say something to her, to remember she was there. 'Of course he knows you're here, Silly. You've been at the end of his arm for an hour' Julia tried to summon a laugh at the thought, but it didn't soothe her. How could she be evidently there and be invisible at the same time? It didn't make sense, but here she was, a stranger among strangers, and no one gave a second glance to the bound, young woman at Sir Roger's side. Her initial shame at being seen as a common prisoner, turned to something akin to anger at not being seen at all!

Finally, the trio stopped at a doorway covered over by a thick velvet tapestry. The prince turned swiftly on his heels, as if he just realized he was being followed. "Julia, it's Julia, right?"

"Yes, My Lord," Julia said politely.

"Good. Good, she speaks! Julia, my man, Roger here, will show you to your room. Be good now, and don't touch anything?" He smiled towards her lamely bound hands and laughed. "Listen, listen. I don't want to be inhospitable, but I can't very well trust you to roam free in my home. Not until we know each other much better. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

Julia didn't know what to say. He was asking her to agree that her hands remain bound? Her shoulders ached, she longed to fix her mussed hair, her wrists felt torn by tiny splinters, and her bondage made her feel even more uncomfortable in her unusual surroundings.

"Doesn't it? Girl! Look at me damn-it!"

Julia quickly raised her head at the change in his tone, "Yes, Sir, yes it does, Sir," she instantly regretted her cowardly words.

"Yes, yes it does, Darling Girl. I knew you weren't stupid as all that. Roger, tuck the doll in, would you?" With a wave in their general direction, the prince was suddenly gone, striding up to a group of grey haired noblemen, who bowed as he approached.

"Well, then, shall we make you more comfortable?" Sir Roger pushed aside the heavy curtain with one hand, as he pulled her through the doorway with the other.

She gasped at the opulence of the first of the prince's rooms. The marble floor was interrupted over and over again by small, vibrantly colored, exotic rugs. The room seemed to stretch forever, due to the open run of several rooms separated by intricately carved arches at least 12 feet above. There were shiny, wooden desks, tables and benches. There were fat armchairs, settees, and lounges. Gloriously woven pillows were piled in several corners and niches. Large window framed the deep, green mountains to the North and East. The hills were dotted with sheep and the sky flavored with fluffy clouds. She lost herself in a visual ecstasy and starting reaching out to a vase of fragrant flowers, before she realized her grasp couldn't reach the front pocket of her apron.

Sir Roger brought the bouquet to her face and she breathed deeply and thus he saw her first true smile. "Beautiful," he said softly.

"Yes, they are! It all is." She realized too late that he eyes were focused on her face. She felt the blood work its way into her cheeks and she fidgeted nervously.

"Come, let's move into your room and let you unwind from your long journey. Shall we?" Now he let go of her arm, and made a sweeping gesture towards a darkened niche some 50 paces ahead. Julia proceeded into the darkness slowly, letting her eyes adjust. She could make out a large, four-poster bed, hung with a velvet canopy. Her eyes lingered beneath the pillows and layers of satiny bedding, as the candlelight danced shadows on the rich purples, reds and gold.

Her long look upon the sight distracted her from the large, wooden door behind another wall hanging, and she jumped at the sudden bang of iron upon iron, as the heavy door latched shut. "Here you are then. Do you like your room?" Sir Roger made an expressive glance over the small room, "The prince wouldn't expect you to share his bed quarters at first, although I'm sure you'll end up there eventually."

Sir Roger sounded distracted, as if eager to leave her and get on with his day, "Now, why don't you wash-up in the basin there and there will be someone in shortly to bring you fresh clothing and prepare you to receive the prince later this evening."

"Sir, my hands. May I have use of my hands to clean?"

"Oh, of course, yes, of course," jolted out of some reverie, he proceeded to undo the knotted rope, letting her arms fall like lead at her sides.

"Oh!" she exclaimed and felt a dizzy rush of blood coursing back to her joints and flesh.

"I'll leave you now," he said coldly and reached the large door in one stride, pulling it open with some effort. Before disappearing, he turned back to her, "Miss. Julia, it has been a pleasure. I hope we run into each other again." His eyes locked onto her a moment, as she rubbed her sore arms and wrists. "I do hope we do," he repeated, with surprising warmth, and was gone.

The door slammed into its frame and a muffled latching sound reverberated in the chamber, leaving her in a suffocating silence. Sound seemed swallowed, in fact, by the intricacy of the many tapestries, the dizzying height of the cold ceiling, and the beautiful countryside, growing dimmer behind the bars of her bare window.

Julia continued to rub her wrists idly as she proceeded to the white, porcelain basin. She gingerly washed her hands, which were filthy and raw, from the ride and the ropes. Gazing into her reflection, in the vanity's oval mirror, she was mesmerized by the sight. The rooms many shadows played with her features. She wondered at high cheekbones, seemingly set apart from soft, pink cheeks. A square, defiant jaw, betrayed by lips that trembled, and wide, grey eyes, bewildered but burning with life.

Sir Roger said that someone would be in to prepare her 'to receive the prince.' Besides the excitingly ominous nature of his words, she wondered if Sir Roger sounded jealous, or if she only wished it so.

Blinking, she broke away from the reflection of herself. She looked again at the unfamiliar room, more exotic by the flickering candlelight and profound silence. Was this how the fantasy was supposed to play out? Is this what she had wished for an imagined these past months? Is this flesh and blood prince the same that rocked her into orgasm night after night? She longed and feared to find out, as shiver of certainty told her, she wouldn't have long to find out.