–5–

Amaryllis woke with Bridget’s arms around her. The Princess’ eyes widened and her cheeks burned. Looking up she saw her knight’s eyes were still closed. Amaryllis was still wearing the tattered remains of her gown, but Bridget was wearing only a loose shift and braise. The Princess’ blush deepened as she noticed Bridget’s perfect teardrop breasts curving elegantly from her shoulder and collar bone. Bridget was not built like some of her father’s royal guards. She was not some rough-hewn thing of muscles and veins. She was visibly muscular, but each muscle was a taut smooth cord woven seamlessly into the next. 

She returned her gaze to Bridget’s face. She looked so peaceful and placid. The Princess felt a sudden pang of jealousy. She wanted to cause that expression in her knight. She wanted to wake her, just to rob her of her senses again. Drop her and empty every thought from her skull. Perhaps, she smiled to herself, she would then wake her again and repeat the process over and over until she was satisfied. To make the beautiful woman into her own little whirligig to spin for her amusement. She could. Why should she deny herself? 

The Princess reached out to grab a handful of Bridget’s tight dark locks and pull. 

Bridget began to stir. 

Panicking, Amaryllis closed her eyes, and pretended to be asleep. 

She felt the knight move around her. The muscles of Bridget’s arms tensed. The small straw bed moved under them as Bridget shifted. 

Amaryllis did her best to remain still, and keep her breathing level. Now and again, she could feel Bridget shift her body, adjust an arm, or alter her breathing, but as the moments grew into minutes she became impatient. 

She opened her eyes and immediately met Bridget’s gaze. 

“Eck,” Amaryllis cried. She pushed the knight away and scrambled to her feet. “What is this?” The Princess demanded indignantly, gesturing toward Bridget’s form stretched out on the bed. 

“Sorry, Your Grace,” Bridget stammered. “You collapsed in exhaustion last night and…” her knight’s eyes flicked to Amaryllis’ bare shoulder. Two deep purple wounds were still visible just above her collar bone. “I thought only of your safety, I swear. It was imprudent of me though.” 

“Indeed it was, Syr. You thought it right to place your hands on my royal person, while I was half naked and unconscious?” Amaryllis took a step closer while speaking, looking down at Bridget who was still half-lying on the bed. As she drew closer, The Princess gestured toward her bare shoulder invitingly. 

Bridget’s eyes grew as they followed The Princess’ gesture. Amaryllis’ bosom was ample and the curve of her body hadn’t escaped the knight’s notice.  

“Mark that gaze, Syr Knight. I see your eyes wander!” Amaryllis chidded with sadistic glee.

Bridget’s cheeks instantly turned red and her eyes fled to Amaryllis’ feet. “My apologies, Your Grace. I swear I had no designs on you.”

Amaryllis closed the distance between them and gripped Bridget’s jaw, “I do not believe you, Syr Knight.”

Bridget stared in awe at Amaryllis’ ruby eyes. “I beg your forgiveness, Your Grace,” Bridget pleaded. 

“That I believe.” Amaryllis smiled cruelly. 

Bridget felt her head swim. “Taking advantage of you was the furthest thing from my mind, Your Grace. I would never violate your royal person.” Bridget felt desperate. Something aching and terrible was filling her chest. She wanted to throw herself to the ground. She wanted to sob. She wanted to do anything to please her Princess. The displeasure in Her Grace’s voice wrenched her apart from the inside; it was intolerable.  

“How dare you!” Amaryllis hissed. 

Bridget’s heart stopped. Tears welled in her eyes. 

“Now you call me ugly?” 

“Never, Your Grace. Please,” Bridget tried desperately to keep her voice level, but to her shame it peaked and warbled. 

Amaryllis laughed mockingly, and for a moment Bridget was freed from her gaze. She felt woozy–drunk almost. 

“So you think I am beautiful?” Amaryllis asked, meeting Bridget’s gaze again. 

“Always, Your Grace,” Bridget mewled, her eyes caught again by the beautiful rubies gazing out at her from Amaryllis’ face. 

Amaryllis tugged with the lightest touch on Bridget’s jaw and her knight scrambled to the floor to kneel in front of Her Grace. “Say it then,” Amaryllis demanded. 

“Say what, Your Grace?” Bridget asked, dizzy and confused. 

“Are you a simpleton? Tell me I am beautiful,” Amaryllis demanded. 

“You are beautiful, Your Grace. So beautiful,” a tear ran down Bridget’s cheek. Something like terror and relief rushed through her. She smiled, not knowing if it was out of nervousness or excitement. 

Amaryllis smiled as well, but it was cruel and mocking, “So you lied then,” The Princess stated firmly. 

“I did, Your Grace?” Bridget asked, tears welling up in her eyes. The same rending awfulness pulled at her insides.  

“You do desire me,” Amaryllis stated firmly again. 

“I… I do desire you?” Bridget asked, panic rising in her, tears pooling in her eyes. 

“Yes, you were just admitting to me how beautiful you find me. You desire me. You do have designs on my royal person,” Amaryllis cooed. 

“I… I…” Bridget stammered. 

“Say it,” Amaryllis hissed. 

“I do want you,” Bridget whispered desperately. 

“Now and forever.” 

“Now and forever,” Bridget repeated, waves of relaxation crashing over her. Her body sank into the repose it had been longing for. The woven rush mats below her suddenly felt softer than the bed above her. It felt so right to be here on her knees. 

Amaryllis took in Bridget’s face. Her deep red cheeks, the tears running gently down her face. Amaryllis’ heart was pounding. Her chest felt full and her jaw tight. She wanted to devour her Knight, tear her apart, know and own every inch. 

The Princess ran her hand from Bridget’s jaw to the nape of her neck, and down to her shoulder blade. She paused for just a moment to admire, again, those smooth cords of muscle, before running her fingers back up into the knight’s hair. She wove her fingers deep into the locks, feeling the kneeling woman’s scalp. Pausing again, she looked down into Bridget’s placid, dumb face. Then, suddenly, she tightened her grip and yanked a fist-full of hair. Stooping down slightly, she pulled Bridget toward her by the hair forcing the knight’s face to her bare shoulder. 

Bridget’s heart was pounding so hard it hurt in her chest. She desperately wanted to please Her Grace, but knew not what to do. She felt Amaryllis jerk her hair again, this time shaking her head and pushing her face further into The Princess’ shoulder. Her Grace was so unimaginably soft. She began to gently kiss and nuzzle. Gingerly at first and then with increasing zealousness. She felt something give inside her, like a dike breaking against a flood. Warmth and desire flooded through her. 

“Good girl,” Amaryllis cooed. “See? You want me desperately.” Amaryllis laughed mockingly. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” Bridget whined. “So much. I want you, please,” Bridget was half-sobbing now against Her Grace’s chest. Begging between kisses. 

Amaryllis placed a foot on Bridget’s chest and, releasing her grip on The Knight’s hair, pushed her to the ground. 

Looking down at her knight, Amaryllis caught Bridget’s gaze again, “See? Does it not feel so much better to be honest with Your Princess?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I beg your forgiveness. Please,” Bridget sobbed. The last syllable was a drawn out trembolo carried by the knight’s sobs. 

“Good knight,” Amaryllis cooed. “I forgive you. Are you not lucky?”

Bridget felt waves of relief beginning to wash over her again, “Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you.”

Amaryllis trailed her foot down from Bridget’s chest and placed it firmly between the Knight’s legs. She began to press gently. “As much as you desperately want me, you will be a good and faithful knight, and control your desire. Won’t you?”

“Yes, Your Grace!” Bridget cried. 

“You promise to serve and protect The Princess. To put her life before your own.”

“I swear to serve and protect Your Grace. To put your life before my own.”

“Now and forever.”

“Now and forever,” Bridget murmured, sighing and relaxing again, the sobs slowly fading. 

“Good knight. Now, I’m afraid this desperate desire will not be fading any time soon,” Amaryllis pushed down firmly between the knight’s legs to emphasize the point. 

Bridget squirmed beneath the pressure. Through her braise and The Princess’ thin thighs, Bridget could feel each individual toe against her sex. Her cheeks burned as she realized that Her Grace must be able to feel her own body with similar detail. She knew how wet she was–how impossible it would be for that to escape Her Grace’s notice. She writhed internally desperate to hide the evidence of her lust from Her Lady, but Amaryllis’ eyes kept her bound in place.   

“In fact, this desire is only going to grow and grow, I fear,” The Princess continued. As she spoke, The Princess deftly unclasped her necklace, and held it above the knight’s eyes. Gradually it began to emit a soft red light. Amaryllis smiled as she saw Bridget’s eyes lock on to the ruby and her jaw go slack. “That burning heat just below your belly?” she continued. “That ache you feel? Is only going to worsen and worsen. Being around me just makes it worse and worse by the hour. Thoughts of me and my beauty will stay in your head, slowly threatening to devour any other thought.” 

Bridget let out a long, high whine. Her eyes were locked on the glowing ruby and her vision was beginning to swim. Her chest spasmed as another wave of sobs rolled through her body.  

“Poor little knight. What will you do with all those inescapable thoughts of my body? Thoughts of what you could do, if you just let yourself?” Bridget, her foot already pushed firmly between the knight’s legs, began to roll her toes and the ball of her foot against the supine woman. 

Bridget spasmed again. “Please, Your Grace. Please. Please,” she babbled, the words flowing of their own accord from her lips. She tried to piece her thoughts together, but they were swept away by the glow of the ruby and Her Grace’s beautiful voice. 

“You will be a good and chivalrous knight, though, won’t you?” Amaryllis asked tauntingly.

“Yes, Your Grace. Always, Your Grace. Now and forever.” 

“Good. Then you will prove yourself by controlling these base desires. No matter how intense they become. You will show yourself to be a good and true knight. Not some lecherous failure who can not even keep herself from groping at things above her station.” With her free hand, Amaryllis grabbed and heaved her bosom for a moment to emphasize the point. 

Bridget let out another long whine. “Nooooo,” she whimpered.   

“No what, simpleton? What kind of knight is not taught to speak?” Amaryllis let a cruel smile split across her face, knowing it would be mostly hidden behind the pendant suspended above Bridget’s view. The gem was now filling the dim cabin with ruby light. 

Bridget tried desperately to control the waves of sobs running through her. “No, Your Grace. I am Your knight now and always.” 

Amaryllis returned the pendant to her neck; the red lightly slowly fading. “Good,” she replied firmly, a pleased smile filling her face. “You have done well.”

Bridget’s vision finally relaxed. She was almost too exhausted to feel the elation and relief of Her Lady’s praise. The sobs slowly passed like calm after a storm.

“But soon I will wake you. Let this desire,” Amaryllis pushed down firmly between the knight’s legs to emphasize the point, “remind you of what a caring and forgiving Lady you have–how much grace she has extended to you by allowing you to continue in her service. You will mind your tongue and baser impulses, and prove yourself a good and true knight.”Amaryllis lifted her foot. “And endeavor to serve Your Lady as faithfully as you are able.” 

“Yes, Your Grace. Thank you, Your Grace,” Bridget moaned. Her eyes had wandered back to Her Grace’s gaze–the pendant at Amaryllis’ neck now glimmering only a little in the early morning light. 

“Good girl. And you needn’t remember any of this too clearly. You will simply know that you desire me greatly, and you are deeply grateful that your indiscretion has been graciously forgiven again. In a moment, I will wake you, and you will find us something to eat.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Bridget murmured. 

Amaryllis snapped her finger. 

Bridget’s eyes opened wide. She was lying on the floor, Amaryllis standing above her. Then she noticed the heat and wetness between her legs. Her cheeks burned. 

She scrambled to her feet doing her best to hide her desire. 

Amaryllis was turned away, clearly pretending not to notice. 

Waves of gratitude washed over the knight. Her Grace was so kind. 

“I… I will make us food, Your Grace. That monster likely kept dried oats or the like. I beg Her Grace’s forgiveness. It will not be fitting of her person, but it will nourish at least,” Bridget’s heart pounded in panic. 

“I suppose I will forgive the failing,” Amaryllis remarked, smiling down at her knight.