The Princess of Cleves #05

Again he saw flashes of her pale legs, her form towering over him. He felt her in his arms. First, a Fury, then a gentle dove seeking shelter. He trembled at the thought of his lips on her's, and he fantasized that she embraced him.

Instead of almost fainting, he held her tight to him, and carried her to the couch. There, he began to remove her clothes, until she was naked, her pale skin shining in the candlelight. He bit her nosy nipples, ran his teeth along her ribs, and laved her hips with his tongue. When he moved between her legs, she slapped him, knocking him back. She took his hair into her fist, and forced him to kneel. He almost came as he thought of her hand searching his waist, but he calmed himself to finish his daydream.

Her hand closed on the hilt of his knife, and she used it to cut his clothes from his back. He grunted as he felt her foot on the back of his neck, and she forced him to the floor.

"You are a worm Marechal, and I want to see you crawl on your belly."

And he began to move, his erection pressed painfully to the floor. When he imagined her laughing, he came, biting his own shoulder to stifle his cries.

He sat in his chair, limp, wondering what he should write to her. Should he only write pleasantries? Should he tell her he loved her, that he desired her?

My Dearest Princess,

Thank you kindly for your letter, I am glad you consider me a confidante. Do you miss our dull conversations? The weather here is drear. It has been raining for two days now. Everything is wet, there is mud everywhere. I imagine that some will find its way onto this letter.

I have had a very interesting note from Diana. It seems she wishes me to keep an eye on you. She fears you will give into the temptation presented by D--. If that does happen, please know you have a friend in me. I would never judge someone for following their heart, nor would I ever reproach you for any failing.

I promise I will no longer take advantage of our public meetings. I knew my attentions embarrassed you, but it would seem any time a man stood near you, you blushed.

Forgive my boldness, but I miss you terribly. I will confess something here that I will never say to you, I love you. I like to write the words--I love you.

I wish I were in Paris. I would aid your husband and the Chevalier in guarding you. I know the Chevalier well, and you may trust him with your person, but not your secrets.

Please, burn this letter, and the first if you have not already. I cannot bring myself to destroy any note you send to me, so you right to be cautious in what you write. I will keep them in a strong box and return them to you, and you may do with them as you wish. I would never wish to compromise you Princess.

Your Marechal

He sealed the note, and addressed it to the lackey he had left in Paris. For a handsome fee, he was to check behind the statue every night.

The Marechal wondered what it was that brought her to write to him? The most probable cause was that she was bored, but the Marechal decided to flatter himself, and believed that, without even realizing it, the Princess was falling in love with him. He found an underling, and sent him to find a bit of rose water. He scented his pillow with it that night, and dreamt of the Rosalind's delicate hands.