A Sensible Purchase Ch. 04

"You may cry all you like." His voice had something gravelly in it, but it wasn't abrasive to her ears. It was oddly mollifying, as if he wanted to sing a lullaby to a baby. "You are right to miss your old life, and it sickens me to know that I might have contributed to your suffering." His arms tightened. Jansetta's breath was squeezed out of her, but she adapted and steadied her lungs.

"No! No, Husband!" She reached up to grip his arms. "Another would have purchased me, regardless. My fate was sealed. Please don't be concerned."

His fingers were raking up and down her back, making scratching noises against her expensive clothing. Then one of his hands slid up.

And to her throat.

To her chin.

He guided her face upwards.

She saw his parted lips.

And her sight was blurred as she tasted them, hot, wet, and heavy with his breath.

Her first instinct told her to resist, but she rejected that feeling, even as his tongue slipped in, seeming to fill her mouth, even as he moaned into her, trembled all around her.

Her muscles softened, her eyes closed. It would be good to accept affection, wouldn't it?

A lazy little yes seemed to be coming from her body. Her brain was drifting off into a hazy state as it remembered some of the actions the Examiner had taken as he had her bare and helpless.

Was Simon going to touch her? Was he going to put one of his fingers inside her, stroke her, perhaps even put his mouth on her? Would he enjoy her taste?

Maybe, yes? That was what her quivering little channel told her. It was melting, smearing liquid between her thighs.

But ...

Simon's tongue pulled away, and ... then his whole body was pulling away, taking the warmth with him. Lightly panting, Jansetta stared at him, feeling swollen and needy, as if her whole body was a great bruise that felt acutely delicious when pressed upon.

With wild eyes, Simon stepped back. "Forgive me, please!" He shook his head at himself. His nostrils constricted uncomfortably. "You haven't been here long. The Soothing is not finished. I shouldn't have been so aggressive."

The muscles of her cheeks flinched. Tears were welling at her eyes. She didn't exactly know why.

"Dear Wife, Precious Wife, please don't be cross." He folded his hands together and gave a few bows. "I'll let you be. Goodnight."

And he turned around, his black tail whipping with the movement. He crossed the hallway and entered his room, hiding himself.

Were the men here really such ... gentle giants?

***

The next few weeks were very calm, or they were for Jansetta. She knew the workers building the wall outside weren't having a calm time. Every dinner had Sabina and Kornel as guests, which included the amusing stories of their workdays. Then there were songs or board games. One some evenings, Etiennette demanded that one of her Chestnut daughters open a wall to reveal herself and play a zither to accompany the widow's dancing.

Jansetta was rather confused about Etiennette's dancing, because it looked like a childish game played with centaurs. It was always one centaur at a time, and he would walk up to the women's side. Etiennette would use the walls to hide or reveal herself, spinning or lowering her body. Sometimes she'd move her body with a wall so that she was still hidden once it was open. The centaur would do his best to predict her movements so he could look at her face. If he was successful, Etiennette would reward the centaur with a gesture or a touch. Sometimes it was a pat on the hand, or a little wiggle of her playful fingers before the centaur's face.

Kornel was the centaur she played this dancing game with the most often. Jansetta assumed this was because he was a guest.

Sabina would often laugh at Kornel's eager attempts at finding the widow. She'd point at him, or slap the dinner table, or even fall back against the floor with a red face and a heaving chest. Jansetta wasn't quite sure what was supposed to be funny, but saw no harm in this dance.

Simon never tried to initiate anything physically affectionate with Jansetta, which made her wonder if he truly had broken some sort of etiquette rule on that night when he embraced her. She didn't want to bring it up with anyone. She thought it would be rude to do so. Instead, she kept her silence, hoping that her husband would find more courage to scrape together. He certainly spent time with her, though, chatting with her, listening to her play music, and sometimes taking her outside for a fast and fun ride, which would always have her giggling.

And, to both her relief and her concern, a box full of several clogs were delivered to the castle. They were painted in a variety of colors and patterns, and they were made only for her little feet.

She assumed this meant that she was supposed to to go the men's side ... but she was never asked to go there at all.

Even though she was still afraid of what certain intimate interactions with a centaur would involve, Jansetta wanted more sweet touches, at least. Those were very nice.

***

A letter arrived, and it turned out to be from the first born prince. He would soon come with his two younger brothers to look at the Chestnut Daughters, which delighted everyone in the family, even Jansetta. Although, like a selfish, spiteful brat, Jansetta's reasons for seeing the women married off were different than the rest of the family's reasons.

Yes, she did honestly wish for the sisters to marry well, but she also wanted them gone. They never looked at her with kind, understanding expressions, and they hardly ever spoke to her. Sometimes they literally turned their noses up at her. Jansetta assumed that the only reason they didn't give her any real trouble was because if they tried, Etiennette might have beaten them.

On one evening, after Etiennette had finished dancing for her two Chestnut Sons, Jansetta asked her if this dance was common in Breden.

"Of course it is," Etiennette replied with a flushed face and a bright grin. "In fact, now that you've seen it demonstrated so many times, I believe you should learn how to do it."

Etiennette gestured towards the men. "Would you fine men let this new woman practice with you?"

All the men nodded and clapped their hands, cheering and hooting their agreement, stomping into the earth. Some of them even kicked at nothing.

And so, Jansetta was taught the dance. It was called, "The Peeking Game." The first man to play with her was one of the Chestnut Brothers. Etiennette would whisper to her the best techniques for tricking a man into looking the wrong way, or the best poses to put your body in, in case you were caught. Sometimes, she was meant to only let a hand be visible, and that hand had to be posed attractively. Sometimes a prop was held out, usually a handkerchief or a piece of jewelry, and those objects had to be displayed nicely.

There turned out to be no specific rules on how to move, but Etiennette did whisper to her that, depending on which man one played with, the movements could be more flirtatious. For example, if she were to dance with her new husband, she might choose to make more affectionate gestures or advantageous movements.

Jansetta didn't feel brave enough to try dancing for Simon just yet.

Later on, she learned that little toddler girls are encouraged to play this game, and it was considered to be quite adorable with they played with little centaur boys, because they both would laugh and squeal with all their might, and it was fascinating to watch small children learn how to outwit each other.

The princes arrived on an unusually cold morning, just before breakfast would be served. They had several armed centaurs with them, but they looked fairly capable of caring for themselves. The servants were very stressed. They had quite an amount of people to care for. Etiennette used the opportunity to give Jansetta lessons on how to manage such a difficult situation. She told Jansetta that as long as the princes were here, she needed to stay near her from morning until dark, so she could hear Etiennette give the proper orders and answer any questions that Simon was too busy to answer.

For the most part, though, Etiennette, Jansetta, and even Sabina remained hidden from the guests while the Chestnut Sisters were much more open and friendly than ever before. They showed as much of themselves as possible. Jansetta couldn't say she knew exactly what the princes looked like, but she heard the Chestnut Sisters' excited whispers to each other. The princes were probably quite handsome.

Jansetta and Etiennette remained close to a lit brazier as they ate their breakfast, listening to the voices of the princes. They sounded every bit as commanding as royalty should be. Jansetta wasn't thinking much about them, though.

She was thinking about how she was happy to have her stockings and shoes on, because it really was cold. She was also thinking that breakfast was absolutely wonderful. It consisted of a slice of bread that had slightly melted cheese on top and a cup of wine. It was simple, but pleasing, and very appropriate for this morning.

During the time before lunch, Jansetta knelt on the first floor, beside the windows that faced the gardens. She was writing a poem while Etiennette knelt beside her and read a scroll's worth of stories. Nearly regular interruptions came from servants who wanted advice on something or wanted to tell them something important.

After advising a servant on a kitchen related issue, Etiennette asked Jansetta, "Would you mind coming to the kitchen with me?"

Assuming this was the time for a cooking lesson, or rather, a lesson on how to help the servants as they did all the more difficult cooking, Jansetta put away her quill and said, "I'd love to."

She followed Etiennette to the kitchen. In order to get there, they had to put on their bright clogs and step outside onto a stone pathway that was a good foot or so higher than the earth. There was even a lovely stone fence for them to rest their hands on. It was like a bridge that didn't have a hole to cross over. The women walked onto this path to reach a separate building that was the kitchen.

Inside he kitchen, it was very much sexually segregated. The women had an area of smooth stone to stand on while the men were happy to walk on well packed dirt.

Etiennette gave orders while she knotted up her sleeves. Jansetta decided that she should tuck her sleeves into her belt, because she was afraid of damaging the lovely fabric. She listened to her mother-in-law's orders and paid attention to why they were given. There would be a day when Jansetta would be expected to give out orders while Etiennette relaxed for once.

When the women had their sleeves out of the way, they were handed cutting boards bearing vegetables and knives. Then they started their work, listening to the centaurs sing happy songs. Apparently, the singing helped them work faster.

When lunch was almost ready, the women left the men to the rest of the work, and they went back inside the keep. As they had during breakfast, Jansetta, Etiennette, and Sabina remained hidden and the Chestnut Sisters left themselves exposed to the curious eyes of the princes. Then, when lunch was finished, the Chestnut Sisters took turns reading poetry to the men, who listened very obediently, as if even letting a drop of sweat fall would have been terribly abusive.

After lunch, Jansetta heard the men say that they would all run together, which gave the women more time to relax. Jansetta claimed more of the daylight to write while Etiennette kept close. When dinner was being prepared, they had to leave to see to it, cutting up more vegetables and giving out more orders.

At dinner, Jansetta ate quietly, still hidden from the princes, as Etiennette and Sabina were. When the meal was finished, she watched as Etiennette showed herself so she could play a zither while the Chestnut Sisters took turns dancing for the princes. A sprightliness she had never before seen in the women was putting a natural beauty to their features. Jansetta hardly noticed the glimpses of the princes' faces. She was focusing on the women, smiling and clapping her hands to the beat of the music. Not even the men's laughter echoing behind the walls distracted her.

And then an idea came to her.

When one of the Chestnut Sisters finished a dance, and after a round of masculine applause, Jansetta gestured to Etiennette, leading her behind a wall, and whispered to her that she would like to dance for Simon. With impish eyes and a happy grin, Etienette nodded and walked back to the zither, telling her daughters to kneel where Jansetta was.

"Simon, come here!" Her graceful fingers waved upwards, beckoning the man to walk close to the walls. Jansetta heard his hooves. "Your wife would like to dance for you," Etiennette said with a single clap of her hands.

"Is that so?" There was a pleased kind of surprise in his voice.

A nod, and Etienette said, "Wait a moment." She reached up to close the opening that revealed herself. Then she said, "Dearheart, let me know when you're ready."

To the other women's surprise, Jansetta dragged one of the dinner tables over to one of the walls. The trays had been taken away. The tabletop was blank.

She said she was ready. Etiennette slid the wall before her aside so her music could be heard better. Then she started playing.

And here we go ...

A turn, a few steps back, pulling a ribbon loose from her hair ...

Pushing a bit of a wall away, and then slamming it back. A rumble of male giggling cutting through the music.

Stepping forward, onto the table, then off the table, ongoing, and pause. Open the wall ahead, wave the ribbon up and down, like a lady's handkerchief. Retreating as she felt the body heat rushing to her, closing the wall. More laughter. Sabina laughed too.

Over the table, a few panels back, open a wall again, only letting her back show. Her ribbon is tangled up in her fingers. Those fingers are gliding against one of her braids.

Without looking back, close the wall.

Back to the table, over the table, ahead of the table, her feet firm on the mats.

She opened a wall, smiling, looking, reaching out with her tangled ribbon. There was his beaming face, his healthy black hair elegantly glittering under the candlelight.

The back of her fingers, weaved with her ribbon, slowly caressing Simon's cheek.

Retreat. Close the wall. Get onto the table.

Lower, backside onto the tabletop, rushing, tugging on her garters and shoes.

Hurry, hurry, hurry!

Bare legs, cold feet, toes exposed to the cold air.

Goodness, it certainly had gotten cold lately.

"What is she doing?!" Barely audible because of the music, probably one of the Chestnut Sisters.

Reach up, pull an upper wall away.

Kick up! Kick up! Both legs need to kick up! Salute the cold air with baby soft toes flexing and spreading!

Now stop, lower the legs, push the feet onto the table, go up, stand up!

Laughter, so much masculine laughter, hooting laughter, and stomping, and clapping.

Reach forward, lunge forward.

Embrace ...

Jansetta wasn't dancing or playing anymore, at least not in her mind. Her arms were wrapped around the silk and gold covered humanoid shoulders of Simon Thibou, and she was nuzzling his throat, taking in his garden-like scent.

The music stopped.

She leaned back to grin up at his astounded expression, ignoring how all the other men were still laughing at her ... or were they laughing at Simon? It didn't matter to her, really.

Then, she stepped away from him, tilting her head, bowing slightly. She closed the wall, and a dense breath came out of her.

***

The brazier sitting in the recess had glowing charcoal inside, dutifully sitting under the square table. Jansetta knew that she could have put a blanket on the table to contain the heat. She didn't want to. She wasn't even near the table. She was holding a cloak over the rest of her clothing and standing beside one of the boundary walls.

And she waited.

And waited.

She turned around, stepping towards the table. There was a knock, and she spun right back to her spot.

She pushed the upper wall away with a vigor so intense that a banging noise rang out as it slid into its wooden pocket.

Yes!

He was there! He was right there, smiling down at her with those big teeth. His hair was loose for once, soft and wavy all around his humanoid shoulders. He smelled so wonderful.

"Wife?" He was prepared to tell her something. She didn't let him have the opportunity. She went to him, hugging him as she did at the end of her dance.

"Husband! Oh, Husband! I've been standing by this wall, hoping to hear your fist on the wood!"

"Is that so, Wife?" A short, nervous laugh rumbled out of him. She felt his chest shake.

Even though he was so different from her, Jansetta clung to him. She told herself that it didn't matter how uncomfortable, or even painful, the process of conceiving children with this centaur would be. He'd be gentle with her. He'd keep her body safe. And she'd position her body any way he wanted. She'd endure whatever she could, if he'd only hold her again, kiss her again, and touch her sweetly.

Her fingernails scraped and pulled on his clothing. Her cheek, nose, and even her lips all caressed and pressed into him, especially when he returned her embrace, his great arms enveloping her form. There was something like a sparking rush flowing up and down her limbs.

"Please," she murmured, "oh please kiss me again. When you show such affection to me, my brain turns to wool, and it's the most fantastic feeling."

A rusted voice ground itself out of his throat. "By the gods!"

The back of her head was claimed by one of his hands, and she couldn't help but look up at him, parting her lips, expecting a kiss, and she received one. It was a kiss coated in longing, and she adored it, wanted more, even as her eyes closed and her body slackened.

But it stopped, and his mouth pulled away. Jansetta whined out a protest. His voice fluttered over her lips. "You don't need to come to the men's side, and even if you do, you'll have all the control you desire. I swear by it."

Her patience was becoming as thin as a weak thread. "Please! Simon! My body is hot and cold! I'd even say feverish!" One of her hands brazenly sunk into his hair, guiding him back down to her face. She whispered into his lips, "Even between my thighs."

That did it.

That turned a gentle giant into an aggressive one.

He growled at her, putting his teeth on her lower lip, reaching down to pull at her clothing, putting his hands under her gown, exposing her stockings to the air. Then her bare thighs felt the cold.

Yes ... it was even better than when the Examiner had pushed inside! So much better!

"Simon!" Her knees nearly buckled. Her grip on him tightened.

Another kiss was planted onto her, into her, and she delighted in the slick sensation of his tongue gliding against hers. Her hidden channel throbbed and clamped down on Simon's finger. Moisture seeped down onto his hand. That seemed to ease his attempts at stroking her.

"Hhhmmmm!" She was whining and trembling, loving the touching, craving it.

Knock, knock, knock!

"Master?"

There was a smacking, popping noise as Simon's tongue left Jansetta's hungry mouth. He turned his head to ask, "What is it?" His fingers remained deep inside Jansetta, surging, pressing, igniting the nerves there. Jansetta didn't try to muffle her lustful groan.

"The prince himself requests your time, the eldest prince. I'm terribly sorry."

Another little movement inside Jansetta made her hop, and there was a squishy noise.