Enchanted Twelve 2

She said nothing for a long time. "I failed to sleep well also. None of us sleep well."

Andrew paused their travels and looked down at her. He saw the worry in her expression and felt a pang of regret for the ill will he had given her moments before. "I am sorry, Your Highness," he reached out and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, "Danielle."

She sighed and felt her body tremble. She tried to blame the wind, but knew in her heart it was not the case. "I am scared for them."

"Your sisters?"

"Yes."

He saw the look of despair wash over her. Without thought to their stations he reached out and pulled her to him. His arms wrapped around her. One hand stroked her hair as she allowed her tears to seep from her eyes. Andrew closed his, breathed in the scent of her and tried to not think of how her body must have felt the night before, naked and withering beneath the man. "Danielle, tell me about the dreams. It is obvious you know more than you have told your family."

She took a deep breath and nodded her head against his chest. "I don't recall everything. But I know things. I see the marks on... on our skin. Bruises that shouldn't be there."

Andrew felt an inner rage boil up inside him. "All of you?"

"I am not sure, but the majority of us. I watch my sisters carefully. I always have. And..."

"Yes," he coaxed.

"No, you will think bad of me," she looked up into his face, "and suddenly that seems very important to me...that you don't, that is."

He ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. "I could never think bad of you." After he'd spoken the words, Andrew knew them to be true. The words of Queen Andrea came back to him. The sight of Danielle's features masked in a state that showed she acted, yet didn't really seem to be part of the act itself. He pressed his finger to the center of her lip and pushed it gently. She opened her mouth. A small puff of air caressed his fingers. "Princess..."

She licked her lips; that was Andrew's undoing. He bent his head down and captured the pink tip of her tongue in a slow methodical way. Danielle whimpered, leaned in and opened her mouth further. Their heads angled, allowing deeper access to the flesh they both longed to taste. His fingers brushed through her hair. He felt her shiver. His mouth left hers and he took in a hungry breath. "I am sorry," he told her, "I should not have done that."

Danielle blinked her surprise. She licked her lips again, tasting him. She stepped away, pressed a palm to her cheek and felt the heat of her blush. "It is fine. There is no harm done."

Andrew winced. He certainly felt harm had been done. His body ached and he desperately craved release. "Perhaps we should both go to confessional?" Her giggle stirred his heart as he glanced at her. "You have taken a burden that is too large for you to carry. If you will allow me to try... I will take some of it from your shoulders."

The relief showed in the way her shoulders sagged. A tear slipped down her cheek; it was quickly wiped away by Andrew's finger. "I am frightened."

"I know."

They turned as one. Her hand moved back to his arm and this time he held his over her fingers; they walked once more along the path that would take them into the village and then further toward the church.

Andrew left Danielle to the care of one of the Lord's servants. He told her he would return before the day was over and escort her home. As he left her side, he immediately felt he had left a part of him behind.

Danielle watched the cobbler's retreating form. Only when he'd turned a corner and he was no longer visible to her, did she go into the church and find a place to sit until she could take her place in the confessional. Once she sat down to confess all her sins, she found she could only concentrate on Andrew. She apologized to the Priest and left the church.

There were no guards to escort her, nor had there been for some time. Peace reigned throughout Westingfield and so she walked the village street with no qualms concerning her safety.

Danielle made her way to the cobbler's shop. She opened the door and slipped inside. The smell of leather filled her nostrils, comforting her in a way she wasn't even aware she needed comforted.

The front of the shop was empty of both patrons as well as the its owner or his apprentice. She walked to a shelf and stared with interest at some pre-made boots and shoes. It felt strange to be within the walls of the simple structure. It was rare for her to move through the village without her sisters, parents, or one of the ladies maids. Even more of an oddity was for her to enter some of the shops, and she'd never entered Andrew's. He always came to the castle.

Noises from a room off to the back drew Danielle. She made her way to the partially opened door and pressed her palm against it. She leaned against the door frame and watched as Andrew worked side by side with the young boy who had been left in charge to run his shop. She smiled as she witnessed the care the cobbler showed the young man. A warmth spread through her as she imagined the cobbler with his own children. She wondered why he'd not yet wed. He was a handsome man. Strong. Dependable and obviously caring.

The young boy looked up and nudged Andrew. He glanced in the same direction and saw Danielle standing there. His lips rose in a welcoming grin. "What a surprise," Andrew said. He patted the young man on the shoulder, then walked around the work bench, closing the distance between himself and the Princess.

"I found I had too much to confess," she whispered, a soft blush spread across her cheeks.

Andrew smiled an awkward smile. He knew she had more than she probably realized, but so did he. He'd not acted on her behalf; he'd not stopped her from allowing her body to be used. He had even found lust in watching her actions. "The Priest wouldn't have had time to hear all my words either," he admitted, "Would you like to have a meal with me?" he suddenly asked.

Danielle grinned. Soon the two of them were making their way to the bakery, where Andrew purchased meat pies for them to enjoy. Once more Danielle's hand rested on his arm, while he carried the small basket of goods to a clearing not far from the village. Andrew placed the basket on the ground. He looked over at Danielle and frowned. "What?"

"Your dress will be ruined. There is no where for you to sit."

She pursed her lips, knowing that a new gown was not something her father would be thrilled about having to purchase for her, already she knew Andrew would be up late making more slippers for her and her sisters. "Perhaps we should go back to your shop?"

"No... our pies will grow cold. If you will allow me another liberty, one that will of course cause a great rumor if we are seen, I can save your dress."

Danielle lifted a brow and smirked. "But not my dignity?" He chuckled and pulled his shirt off, laid it on the grass and motioned for her to sit. Danielle swallowed the lump in her throat and took the offered seat. "Yes, this would certainly ruin my dignity," she giggled.

Andrew winked, took a seat next to her and removed the covering that the baker had provided for their meal. He handed one pie to Danielle; their fingers brushed against each others. Andrew's gaze flickered to hers. He pulled his eyes down to her lips and watched as she bit into the flaky bread. Juice spilled out over her lips and she stuck her tongue out to lick at the flavorful sauce. A moan of appreciation left her throat as she swallowed the succulent meats.

"Are you not hungry?"

Andrew shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts. He turned to his own meal and began to eat. Off and on he continued to glance at Danielle and watch her eat. Her tongue tempted him. Her delicate hold on the pie drew his attention. How would her fingers feel against his skin.

"You're not eating."

He blushed, quickly finished his pie and laid back on the grass. Danielle stared down at the man that lay next to her. His eyes had closed to block off the rays of the sun that rose above them. She studied him wondering why she felt drawn to spend time with him, where just the day before he'd been an annoyance. She then turned away and thought of how he'd mentioned taking some of her burden away. How could he? And how much of what she feared she'd done in her sleep, did she dare reveal to him?

A soft sound made her turn back to the cobbler. She smiled as she saw he'd fallen asleep. She leaned down, propping herself on her elbow. Her fingers reached out to timidly brush away some of the hair on his brow. Danielle continued to stare at him. Her finger brushed down his face, over his jaw and across to his chin. Her eyes followed the path her finger had run and the flicked up when she heard a soft groan come from his throat.

She blinked as she stared into his eyes. His hand moved up to brush a few strands of her hair. "Danielle, you must stop me."

"Andrew, I do not wish to."

He cupped the back of her head and brought her face down to his. Their lips touched. Their tongues moved together, dancing and tangling slowly at first. Quickly though the desire to move slow was driven back by the need to act quickly. Andrew rose slightly as Danielle shifted. She lay against the shirt and urged Andrew to come to her. He did. His hands moved to rest on either side of her shoulders. He lowered himself, kissed her lips and then began to explore the curves and angles of her face.

The image of her withering under Simon fought through the desire; he pushed it away, refusing to believe that Danielle had acted freely. His tongue traced her collarbone, then down along the curve of her dress. He sucked on the skin above her bodice, licked his way back up to her ear and then down again. He tugged gently, then more forcibly when her hands ran up his back and into his hair, urging him to nip harder.

"Andrew..."

"Princess... your taste is..." He said no more as he reached down between them and cupped her right breast. He pressed it into her body, felt the hard tip of her nipple and rolled it through the fabric. Nimble fingers found the ties of the cloth. He pulled them, releasing the simple bow and then worked the strands loose.

Further his mouth traveled, nuzzling the fabric away until the curves of both globes were open for his eyes. He looked up at her and saw her chewing nervously on her lip. "Danielle... I know about the dreams."

Her eyes opened wide and she stared at him. For a moment he feared she was going to scramble away, but then a look of something else crossed her face. "Then drive them out of me."

Andrew felt the weight of her words, embraced them and began to slowly learn the woman beneath the fancy gowns and royal words.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Danielle sat in her room. Her fingers brushed over the places that Andrew had marked his. She eyed them carefully, noting that several of the love bites rested either right on top or near the bruises that she'd gotten sometime during the evening. She heard his words of confession, claiming he knew of her dreams. Yet as they dressed, he had asked her not to ask him to reveal to her how he knew. She'd promised him, telling him as well as herself that she trusted him with more than her life, but with her heart.

Her hand moved to the brush that rested on her vanity. She picked it up and brushed at the tangles. As she pictured Andrew combing his fingers through her hair a glassy expression crossed her face. She rose and pulled on a robe, then slipped into her slippers.

Without knowing why she went to her sisters' rooms. They gathered together, then moved quietly through the castle passing soldiers and servants that slept soundly. The night wind caressed her face, the coolness of it went unnoticed.

Andrew watched from a distance as once more the Princesses moved as if in a trance. He kept the cloak tightly wrapped and the hood over his head. He followed them, struggling between dragging Danielle to his side, ripping off his cloak and kissing her with passion. His oath to the Queen and King stopped him from interfering.

Once more they moved through the garden and down the path that Andrew knew would not be there come morning. Again they were met by boats and men. Some Andrew recognized as the Princesses disappeared with them.

He moved to follow Danielle, and was surprised to see Cecilia move with her. Another man stood by the youngest Princess. "Princess Cecilia."

"Cassius," Cecilia cried, throwing her arms around the man's neck.

"Will you and your sister grace me with your company this evening?"

Andrew frowned as another man appeared from the shadows. He recognized him immediately as Simon. A growl, unheard because of the cloak, roared from Andrew's throat. He moved to grab the man, then stopped, forcing his fist to remain clenched at his side.

"We will be honored," Simon said, taking Danielle's hand in his. Andrew watched as Cassius claimed Cecilia and Danielle willingly walked next to Simon. Her eyes glazed over, but her body pressing seductively and welcoming into the Prince.

Andrew frowned, but again remained invisible as he followed the group onto a larger and much more decorative boat. He settled into a corner and observed Danielle and Simon until he could no longer stomach the moans and grunts of pleasure that poured from her lips. He turned away and tried to control the raging inferno of hate that slowly consumed him.