Her Stolen Grace Ch. 02

"Touch yourself for me," he instructed as he began removing his trousers, his desire for her straining against the fabric.

"Yes, your Majesty," Vareena purred, taking two fingers and seductively placing them in her mouth. William stroked himself as he watched her lubricate her fingers with her tongue and trail her hand down her body to her visibly slick sex.

He was patient despite wanting to simply take her then and there. Vareena used her fingers to skillfully circle the small nub between her lower lips. Her moans served to further test his resolve. He watched as she slipped a finger inside herself, then another. Slowly, she matched rhythm with the strokes of his cock.

For a short time, they remained like so. Staring at one another with an unfulfilled need, as one watched the other toy with themselves. Vareena took her free hand groped her breast, using a finger to play with a perked, pink nipple. She continued, her breaths quickening as she pumped her fingers in and out of the heart of her femininity, stopping only ever so often to devote time to her erect pearl. He stilled as she continued, breaking their intense gaze to close her eyes as she surrendered to her own ecstasy. She shook for a moment, a low moan escaping from within her as William observed her inner explosion. As her peak subsided, it elicited a primal groan from the King and she removed her fingers from inside her, moving to taste the result of her release.

Then - he was upon her. Grasping her wrist firmly, he took her lubricated fingers and put them in his own mouth, reveling at the taste of her.

"Your grace," she mewled as William lapped up the remnants of her sweet nectar from between her fingers. The taste of her drove him wild; he could no longer be patient. He coaxed her legs apart, placing himself between them, and without hesitation he plunged inside of her.

She was wet and welcoming of him as he slipped inside of her easily enough, despite his size. William felt her writhe beneath him and he groaned as she clenched him. For a moment he did not move; simply savoring the feel of her so warm and tightly wrapped around him. He closed his eyes and saw not Vareena's raven hair, but copper curls splayed across the bed.

The very thought of being inside her ignited something primal within him. He retreated from inside Vareena, not fully, but just until the tip of his cock remained. Then with a hunger, he dove inside her again. Vareena's cries of pleasure resounded about the room, it was sure to be heard outside of it as well. He did not care.

Again and again, he drove inside of her. Relentlessly allowing her no repose. Her small breasts bounced delightfully, offering him a taste. He happily obliged, latching onto one with his mouth. Vareena's back arched at the sensation, her hands raking across his shoulders.

"Oh gods," she rasped between breaths, he could feel her peak drawing near as she tightened around him. Suckling hard on her breast and giving her nipple a light bite, he withdrew from her quickly. Vareena whimpered at the withdrawal. Ignoring her, he flipped her over so that she now lay prone. Taking the intimation, Vareena propped herself onto her knees and spread her legs wide, looking back to him in invitation. No sooner had she done this, he was inside her again, only this time delving into her from behind with fervent vigor. His hands gripping tightly the flesh at her waist in order to draw himself completely inside of her with each stroke.

"Oh, yes!" she cried, "Fill me, William! Fill me!"

William was annoyed. Vareena had always been vocal, this was nothing new to him. While he didn't particularly enjoy her vocal exclamations, he'd never done anything to discourage them either. However, this time it irked him as it drew him away from his fantasy. He gave her a firm, hard slap to her backside which Vareena mistook for encouragement.

Another unintelligible shout escaped her lips and William felt her sheath quiver at the impact. She was drawing close and so was he as, once again, he retreated back into envisioning she was the carmine haired goddess awaiting him at Nightwall. He imagined what it would be like to fuck her mercilessly and have her squirming beneath him as he took her, hearing her plead for more.

Shattering the illusion, Vareena utter another high pitched, "William!" Taking advantage of the only time she was permitted to call him by name. Furious this time, he addressed it. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he pulled her head towards him, not breaking rhythm as he thrust inside her.

"Quiet," he barked heatedly. Vareena acknowledged with a quick nod and pushed herself back to meet his thrusts, not wanting him to stop. He did not let go of her hair, instead using it as an anchor to draw himself deeper inside of her. William imagined his hands were entwined in long, auburn curls instead. He could almost taste her, the thought bringing him nearly close to the edge. Vareena had done a decent job of obeying his last command but as her climax drew near, she let out one last involuntary cry. His fantasy, coupled with the reality of the woman coming before him, undid William and he exploded inside her.

He waited a few moments for the high to subside and removed himself from Vareena. Laying down on his back, he took a moment to catch his breath. Vareena took the opportunity to curl up beside him, nuzzling her head against his broad chest.

"That was wonderful, William," she praised, using a finger to lightly trace the hairs on his chest.

William.

He did not respond as he imagined what it would be like to hear the sound come from Amora's lips. His cock twitched though he was only half hard now. A small smile came to his lips and Vareena misunderstood it for it being a result of her touch. She attempted to wrap herself atop him so they could sleep but he shrugged off her embrace.

"Leave me." William did not even look at her, simply tossing a portion of the comforter on top of him in preparation to sleep. Shocked, Vareena did not immediately obey.

"Wouldn't you like for me to help keep you warm?" She tried headily taking her hand and drawing it slowly down his body towards his half hard cock. Grabbing her wrist before it reached its destination, he threw it off and gave her an indignant look as his other hand suddenly clutched her throat.

"I will not repeat myself again. You've served your purpose." His voice was even-tempered, and he could see the betrayal in her eyes. Once more, he did not care. Releasing her and turning back to his position of sleep, he waited for her to comply.

She did.

Slowly, Vareena clamored off the bed and gathered her articles of clothing. As she put them on, she turned once more to look back at her King, hoping for a recantation. She received none. Vareena finished dressing herself and sulkily left the King's sleeping chambers.

William didn't notice her leave. His mind had already returned to his list of future conquests. The primary one being his captive that awaited him back at Nightwall. She already belonged to him. All he need do was claim her. And he would, in time. When the moment arrived that he would take her, she would be more than willing, he knew this. That night in the bath had triggered something inside her that he knew she didn't understand. It seemed there was a lot that she wasn't aware of. His preoccupation with Amora was not simply because she was physically desirable. William had known what she was long before he'd invaded Relan.

What Amora did not know, what most no one knew, was that she was the very center of his plans. She would be vital to him getting what he wanted.

No, he'd not claimed her...yet. But it did not matter.

She was already his.

**********************

There were three things that Amora had realized in William's absence. One was that William was trying to keep her busy. He had instructed that her servantry duties be lessened to make room for educational instruction. She had now been assigned a tutor. Two, in fact. One would educate her in language and history, the other would be instructing her in etiquette. The latter was of great insult to her, as she thought her manners were just fine.

Being kept so busy, she hadn't had much time to work on her plans. It seemed almost as if the King had intended it that way. Her first tutor, Restor Rian, was a gangly and impatient man whose nose seemed to know no end. He reminded her of the twisted trees she'd seen in the Nightswood. Rian had given Amora reading and writing lessons to work on while he sat on the other side of the room, scrawling away on his parchments. One thing had worked to her advantage however: Restor Rian was under the impression that Amora didn't know how read. Her mother had taught her before she died, and Fiori took over that responsibility after her mother's passing. It insulted her that he thought so lowly of the Relanese people but Amora did not argue the matter. The assignments he'd given her were at the basic reading level of that of a small child. It appeared he expected the assignment to take her some time. She'd finished them nearly ten minutes after he'd given them to her and was using her leftover time and blank paper to secretly map out the grounds.

The second thing Amora realized that whatever reason the King had for keeping her here, it had to be for something of significant importance. She was no longer allowed to walk about the castle with another servant or two as an escort but now had an armed knight with her nearly at all times. To Amora, it almost seemed as if it were more for her own protection rather than preventing a prisoner's escape. One of her usual escorts had been exchanged for a young lad, Ser Oliver Pratt, she learned. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than her and was obviously newly knighted.

He was as handsome as any. Blonde, curly haired and of tall stature. However, Oliver was incredibly sheepish and always misaddressed her as "Lady Amora", no matter how many times she'd informed him that she was not a lady. If she had cared, she would have thought the boy would make a good match for Isabel.

His arrival as her escort brought her peculiar predicament to the forefront of her thoughts. Why was she here? When she'd first arrived, she thought she was either to be killed or sold as a pleasure slave to the Jodellians. Slavery had been outlawed throughout the continent, but it was said the Jodellians still practiced it in some forms. When neither incident happened, while grateful, Amora was perplexed. Her next thought was that she was being held because the King believed she knew some sort of pertinent information.

She'd heard that the King of Bhoriva had been spared and was now governor of one of the new provinces. Perhaps her role as one of Queen Maria's handmaids meant that she privy to some sort of valuable information. At least, that would have been the most reasonable assertation. However, she'd never been questioned, never interrogated by either the King nor his men. Even his Confidence, Lord Levan Vander, never once attempted to pry any sort of information from her. They simply watched her. They all did.

Amora was used to people looking at her. Such was the burden of someone cursed with hair like hers. There were not many who possessed red hair, in fact it was a rarity. Most believed it to be a curse. An earthly sign from the gods that they were displeased with one's family line. In Relan, most shied away from her, for fear of also angering the gods. It was not unusual to hear, among the common people, of a newborn that was left outside to die because it had the misfortune of being redhaired. Luckily for Amora, she'd been born inside the castle. The King and Queen had been a bit more progressive although her interactions with the rest of the castle staff were mixed. Few shunned her, however most ignored her. Her mother, a great beauty, had also donned red hair and it was a rumor that that was the cause for The Mad Queen's decline.

Jodell was a bit different. People still stared at her, but it was not with fear or disdain. For the most part it was with curiosity, as if they'd never seen someone like her before. In Relan it was easy to find one or two people like her in the marketplaces if she looked hard enough. Admittedly, the vibrancy in the color of her hair rivaled no one's. However, it was a comfort to Amora to know that she was not alone. Though she had not been outside Nightwall, so far appeared she was alone in this respect. Nightwall was twice the size of Lowan and had double the staff, but she'd seen no one like her.

The last thing that concerned Amora was Dustin. She had not seen the knight since her escape. Of course, of all people, she'd rather not see him ever again. He'd been the one who had tried to kill her all those months ago and their relationship had not grown any fonder over time. Dustin oversaw her activities. That much, she knew. So, why hadn't she seen him since that day? Again, she attempted to pry information from Isabel, who was reluctant to share but eventually conceded. Dustin had not been in the party that left with the King and she had no idea where he was. No one had seen him. His disappearance made Amora uneasy.

A week passed and Amora only got as far as determining her destination after her escape. She couldn't return to Relan now that it was under the control of the Jodellians. No one she remotely cared about was alive and it was too far into enemy territory to try and risk such a journey. In her lessons, Amora learned about the Free Cities. She'd heard of them before back in Relan. Five cities that rebelled against the rule of The Faith, long ago. The five cities: Nemis, Karta, SinYu, Belderon, and Ome were once part of an ancient kingdom. Dissatisfied with their treatment by their ruler and the Faith's lack of willingness to aid them, the five banded together to overthrow their government. Later establishing themselves as independent conurbations, the Free cities were now governed by an oligarchy. Nemis, the capital of the Free Cities, was the most populated and the most promising among the five. Nemis was where she would go.

Stealing the map was easier than she had anticipated. She didn't even think it qualified as stealing. She'd asked Restor Rian for a map of the continent, so she could 'further her studies'. The Restor initially had been skeptical of her ability to read a map should he give her one. But after a bit of coaxing he'd given in, claiming he didn't want to be blamed for not providing her with a "wholesome education."

The second part of her plan was to determine her way out of the castle. The steam-windows had been her cleverest idea yet, but now was completely out of the question. She no longer bathed alone and for some reason there were now men always stationed just outside her bathchambers three floors below. She would have to find another way. Another four days passed and Amora was beginning to lose hope when she'd stumbled upon her saving grace. A secret door in the linen rooms.

In her defense, she'd found it by accident while attending to her chores. Somehow the two walls that joined in the back of the room, didn't quite match up perfectly. When she was on laundry duty, she was usually left alone, her guard remaining outside while the women worked to clean the sheets. No one paid her much attention and she slipped easily into the corridor.

It was a long and narrow path and Amora was afraid that it would lead her nowhere and she'd be trapped in between the walls of the castle. It was dank and musty, cobwebs and dead insects trailing the walkway. This passage hadn't been used in years. After what seemed like an endless amount of walking, she happened upon another door. It was dark in the tunnel and it took her a moment to pry it open. After several attempts, using all of her body weight, she finally stumbled out the door.

She was outside. She didn't know approximately where in relation to the castle, and the cold was bitter as it often was in Jodell, but there she was - outside. The warmth of the sunlight was welcoming as was the sweet air. The pathway had probably been used for the linen rooms long ago. After the women had washed the sheets, they'd take them out here to set them to dry. But now that they used the hearth-rooms, linens could be dried inside the castle, no matter the weather.

Amora closed her eyes and took in another moment to breathe in the air. The area she'd found herself in was a small little clearing but serene. The grass was long and willowy, indicating it had not been tended to in some time. She wished she could sit for a moment, just to enjoy the sunlight on her skin but she knew she hadn't the time. If she did not return quickly, someone was sure to notice she was gone. With great sorrow, she took one more look at the small clearing and headed back into the corridor.

*

Nine more days passed. Amora had not visited the clearing again, her lessons and other chores taking up much of her time, setting back her planning. The King had returned the day before, but she had not seen him. Unfortunately, Amora had the displeasure of being reunited with Vareena who did nothing but boast of the grand time she'd spent in the south. Secretly, Amora was jealous. She missed Relan and hearing Vareena speak of the sands of Bayrich Cove and the blue waters of the Aried only enflamed her desire to see them again. Every time Vareena opened her mouth to brag, Amora stifled the temptation to slap her in the face.

Amora waited for the King to call for her to dine with him, but he never did. Three nights passed since his return and not once was she summoned. The first night, Amora was glad of it. Why should she want to dine with him? He was, after all, her captor. The second night elicited confusion. By the third, Amora was...disappointed. She berated herself for the twinge of sadness she felt at not being called. It was unlike her to be upset over something so trivial.

Another night passed and once again, she was not called. Perhaps the King had lost his interest in her. Whatever interest it was he had possessed in her in the first place.

Why did she care?

Her mind drifted back to the night William had bathed her. She recalled the feel of his fingertips along her skin, the racing of her heart as he'd traced his away along some of her most intimate parts. Her mind continued, bringing her thoughts of what proceeded after. The delicious punishment the King had doled for her transgressions. She could feel heat stirring between legs as she recollected William's touch afterwards—

—remembering where she was, Amora shook her head.

I mustn't think of him that way. In the end, he's a monster, she resolved bringing herself back to plans at hand. She had been in Jodell long enough. It was time for her to take leave.

The next morning went about as usual. She had her lessons and did her chores. Today she was to do laundry again. The linen room was busier than the last time she'd been here, due to the fact that half the staff had returned after accompanying the envoy of the King.

The chatter in the linen room was lively, Amora giving it no attention, instead keeping a yearning eye on the secret door. Her station, today, was situated a bit farther from the door than last time. Oliver had followed her in this time, wanting to have a conversation with another servant two stations away from her. He was standing parallel with her secret door and she secretly cursed at her inability to escape, even for a moment.

As she scrubbed the sheet in her hands, the main door to the linen room opened and someone stepped in. Amora's heart stopped.