Master of the Kingdom Ch. 07

"Thank you both for your hard work tonight, I'm sure His Grace will appreciate it," Colette told her subordinates with an incline of her head.

The two maids remaining, after King Roland had demanded to take one of them with him while he dealt with traitors within the Capital, curtsied back. "We live to serve His Grace the King, mistress," murmured the bronze, voluptuous foreigner Leana, unfailingly polite as always, despite the fact that she was a few years older than Colette.

The most junior of the three maids, Cleo, a pretty and slender girl with her strawberry blond hair tucked behind a patterned kerchief, who was a lifelong servant in the castle, having been elevated to her position as royal maid from the castle dairy, yawned. "Forgive me for asking, mistress, but why the sudden change of plans, and so late?" she inquired, "I don't mean to complain, but this entire day has been a bit unusual."

Colette knew exactly what she meant. King Roland's days since taking the throne has been fairly regimented, mornings in the yard for exercise, afternoons and evenings attending to his royal duties, and nights unwinding with one or two of his maids. But since he had met with the witch Adeline that afternoon, King Roland had sent Colette and the other royal maids scrambling.

Three servant's rooms to be cleaned and made up, and all furniture to be removed and placed into storage but the very basics- bed, washstand, and drawers. One of the royal family's suites to be freshly cleaned and turned over, and- this one grated on Colette abominably- to be decorated to the court witch's tastes on the following morning. Then, before leaving, King Roland had demanded one of the lesser royal maids- explicitly not Colette- to be whisked off with him. She had sent Katarin along, knowing that the more experienced maids would be needed to get everything done in a timely manner, and so the King, Katarin, the witch, and most of the Veronomigan Guard vanished into the Capital, leaving Colette and her two companions to their work.

Then, after nightfall, one of the giant Guardsmen returned, offering his own apologies before passing on the King's order to prepare yet another room, another of the royal family's personal rooms, and be ready to receive a delivery of furniture on the morrow! And cleaning out and freshening all these rooms, some of which had gone untouched for years, was all on top of their normal workload. In short, the three maids had been working themselves to the bone since mid-afternoon, and only now, after midnight, were they able to finally wrap up the day's business.

"It is not for us to question His Grace," Colette replied, "He states his requirements, and we fulfill them. I don't know quite why we've been asked to do so much, but please trust that if this workload persists I'll insist on bringing on a few more girls."

Leana's face grew a slow, wicked smile. "I shouldn't mind a few extra hands, mistress, provided we are given seniority when it comes to serving His Grace directly."

Colette sighed with annoyance. "Serve His Grave well and I'm sure he'll call upon you much more often than other maids," she replied, "I'll keep in mind what you're asking for if the King happens to be unspecific. Until then...."

She was interrupted by the distant clatter of the castle portcullis slamming shut. They all knew what that meant- the King had returned. "Leane, prepare His Grace's study- set the fire, fluff his chair, you know what to do," Colette ordered, "Cleo, down to the kitchen and fetch His Grace's favourite spiced wine. Be sure to wake the taster and give him his cup before returning, and do not dally." Fortunately for Colette, these two were very well trained by this point, and hardly needed the orders, already in motion by the time she finished speaking. She could trust that they'd perform their duties appropriately.

As for herself, Colette walked briskly to the entrance of the central keep. If His Grace required anything else, Colette intended to be there to receive his orders... and she would be able to confirm firsthand that her beloved King was safe, and perhaps finally get some answers.

Colette was waiting in the antechamber when the great hall doors lurched open. First came the expected squad of royal guards... but, Colette was surprised to see, one of them had lead in three women. At least Colette thought they all where women- two had fine dresses on that accentuated their feminine figures, but the third was wearing some kind of heavy black robe that the maid couldn't quite identify. All three had burlap sacks pulled over their heads, obscuring their faces, and where bound and leashed by the wrists, being lead by one of the massive guardsmen.

Abruptly Colette realized that the large ring on one of the lady's hands was actually a heavy golden signet ring, bearing the three trees of House Nessane. She hesitated, the realizing dawning on her that one of these women- the king's prisoners, crudely bound and hooded like a common criminal- was the high lady of one of the Capital's noble houses. Before she could comprehend the full implications of this, the hulking guard gave her a half bow. "I see you, Lady Colette," he intoned in a deep, growling baritone.

Colette refocused on the moment, taking the time to offer the guard a matching curtsy. "I see you, Grieger son of Garth," she replied. The Veronomigan's way of greeting each other always seemed odd to Colette- who could possibly overlook an eight foot tall man in full mail?- but she never said so to their faces. The giant guardsmen always treated her with respect, in spite of how they normally treated women, and she always sought to pay them back in kind.

"His Majesty would like you to see his new acquisitions to the rooms prepared for them among the royal apartments," Grieger said, "I am to help you control them, in case they get out of hand."

She regarded the prisoners silently. They seemed quiet enough at the moment, waiting obediently in their bondage. Colette nodded, beckoning the huge man to follow as she lead him deeper into the keep. "The king is otherwise occupied, I take it?"

"He is dealing with his other hostage and his witch at the moment," Grieger replied, following, "Trust that he is well, Lady Colette. Better to be expected, I would think."

Colette frowned. "How do you mean?"

The hulking guard had a deep chuckle. "Well, His Grace has been enjoying his hostages, like a conqueror should. I did not expect he had it in him, but..."

Colette felt her scowl deepen on her face. She did not need to have it spelled out to her that her King was fucking his hostages. "I see. Well, it is not for us to question His Grace's will."

"Of course, Lady Colette."

The rest of the ascent to the royal apartments occurred in silence, until Colette nodded to the two other guards standing watch at the main stairwell, and opened the door for Grieger and his charges. "Mind your head," Colette reminded gently.

The giant man murmured his thanks, and he bent down to clear the doorframe. From there, it was only a short walk to the servant rooms that had been prepared.

The first room, Colette pushed the lady in pink silks into, and removed her hood to see the slightly dazed face of Desiree Amrien, one of the court ladies who frequently the social events put on by the former King. She had a crude cloth gag on, and appeared frightened out of her wits. Colette regarded her coldly- she certainly had no love for the grasping sluts of noble society- and took the time to strip her of her hairpins and jewels before removing the blonde noblewoman's bonds. Colette wasn't merely looting the poor woman, but seeking out anything that might be used by a desperate prisoner to effect an escape or injure herself... although the look of humiliation on Desiree's face was very sweet to the maid.

"Please, you have to help me," Desiree begged, "His Majesty... he put me under some kind of sorcery! I wouldn't do those... things, normally! Please!"

Colette simply shut the door in her face and locked it.

Next was the other noble lady, who did indeed turn out to be Lady Marie, the dowager of House Nessane. Lady Marie was too proud to beg, and didn't say anything. She stoically let Colette strip her of jewellery and release with bonds with barely a reaction, save for a momentary tightening of the fists when Colette took away her signet ring.

That particular piece, Colette slipped into a pocket in her apron. House signets were more than mere adornments, or even seals- the bearer of such a ring functionally had control over all the house's holdings, provided they had a pen to write and wax for the seal. If the dowager lady was here as a prisoner, then King Roland would be very interested in the fate of that ring.

After locking away Lady Marie, then came the last woman, the one draped in black. Colette was surprised, when she removed the woman's hood, to see that she was a nun. Just to be sure, Colette examined her for jewellery, although there was none to be found. For the most part, she seemed submissive, but when Colette finally released her bonds....

Shrieking like a harpy, the nun launched herself at Colette. Whether she was grasping at the maid's face, for eyes or ears or hair, Colette would never know. A strong hand took Colette by the waist and yanked her back, the nun's fingers slicing through the air barely an inch in front of her face.

Greiger pulled Colette fully out of the room, before seizing the nun and bodily tossing her upon the bed. While the nun attempted to recover and launch another attack, Grieger was able to step back and slam the door shut, cutting off the nun's shrieks. As Colette shook herself out of her stunned state and swiftly locked the door, the nun could be heard pounding on it, screaming "You're all going to hell, you hear me!? You're all damned!"

Colette collapsed back against the smooth stonework wall of the hallway, her heart pounding in her ears. For a moment she found herself nervously swallowing, her throat dry as a bone in an instant. She had never been attacked like that before, with that sudden vicious fury. Again, she found herself bewildered at her King's choice of... guests? Prisoners? Hostages?

"Are you alright, Lady Colette?" Greiger asked, looking her over with a concerned expression, "His Majesty would not have it if you were harmed."

"I'm alright, thank you," she said, quietly, then realized she was twisting the apron of her uniform with white-knuckled hands, and forced herself to relax. "I should go inform His Grace that his... guests... are seen to. I trust you can show yourself out, Grieger son of Garth?"

"Aye, Lady Colette."

"Then, return to your duties," she said, bobbing in a brief curtsy, "And... thank you. I shall see to it that His Grace knows of your intervention."

"It is no matter, Lady Colette," was the giant's only reply before he ducked his way back out to the stairwell.

Finally free of her own duties, Colette eagerly headed towards her King's study. She had been denied her place at His side all evening, and needed his presence now more than ever.

The King's study was remarkably simple compared to what one might expect. Not far from the royal bedchambers, it was a warm an inviting place, with thick carpets, a large fireplace, and a wall of bookshelves housing a goodly portion of the palace's library. The focal point of the room was a velvet chaise-lounge which, at the moment, held an exhausted King Roland. He sat at the edge of it, glass of dark purple wine held loosely in one hand, while the other ran over his eyes. It was such a private, vulnerable moment that Colette's heart swelled, seeing her King with his regal facade stripped away.

"Ah, Colette," he said when he noticed her, "You should have knocked."

Colette swept her eyes down to the floor, shaking her head. In her eagerness to return to His Majesty's presence, she had forgotten propriety. "Forgive me, Your Grace," she said quietly, "I was merely hoping to see if there was anything else you required."

"No, thank you," King Roland replied, taking a sip of his drink, "You've already done so much, today, accommodating my orders. I trust situating the... hostages... went well?"

"Yes, Your Grace," she said, delicately approaching him with downcast eyes. "Does something trouble you, my King? You seem...."

King Roland dismissed her concern with a gesture. "I am alright. It has been a long day, with many risks and a few surprises. If certain people had not cooperated, or if the effects of that potion had been anything else...." He trailed off, keeping his darker thoughts to himself.

Colette knelt delicately before her King, lifting her skirt to settle it on the ground. "Does my King require my assistance in relaxing himself?"

King Roland chuckled. "No, I've 'relaxed' aplenty today. Truth be told, I should probably see my way to rest. Tomorrow will be a long day, with a great deal of changes."

"If Your Grace wishes it, yes," Colette whispered in a soft, breathy voice, crawling her way under the her King's Slouched posture to boldly rub her cheek against her King's crotch, not unlike a cat seeking attention. "But I know Your Grace also sleeps better if he has a chance to empty his seed before bed."

Her King paused a moment, considering, before he leaned back on the couch. He was wearing his regal facade once more, but Colette had also served his needs enough to understand his implied assent. Delicately, she found the laces to her King's breeches, and took one end in her teeth, tugging them open softly when her King's hand grasped her by the chin, and gently pushed her away.

"No," he said simply, "Send me Leana."

Jealousy and outrage stabbed a cold knife into Colette's chest, and she looked down a moment, hiding her expression until she could bring herself under control. Without daring to look at her beloved King, she rose and offered a deep curtsy. "As you wish, Your Grace," she managed without sobbing, and backed out of the room.

Out in the hall, Colette took the time to compose herself. She was chief of His Grace's maids, and it would not do to show weakness, especially in front of a girl who was the closest thing to a "rival" Colette had in the small, insular world of the palace. She was many things that Colette herself was not- exotic, mysterious, and charming. For the King to pass over her for that... dark-skinned foreign tart galled her. As the head maid strode away from the study, seeking out the other girl, every step seemed to fill her with rage.

She found Leana exiting one of the royal suites, a neatly folded green silk dress bound up in her arms. "His Grace requires you," Colette instructed tersely, unable to keep the venom out of her voice.

A slow smile grew across Leana's features. She did a brief, one-handed curtsy. "Thank you, Lady Colette, I shall attend to him right away," she purred in a voice as soft and sweet as honey poured on silk, "Won't you please take Lady Angelique's dress off my hands, then? She asked for the garment to be washed, but I must go to His Grace's side right away."

Angrily, Colette snatched the dress away, her foul mood only vaguely disturbed by her wonder of who exactly "Lady Angelique" was and why was she being treated as a royal guest. As swiftly as she could, Colette disposed of the dress, seething all the while. Things in the inner sanctum of the palace were changing rapidly, and a desperate, lonely part of her soul told Colette that she wasn't as irreplaceable as she told herself. She shook her head at that thought, as if she could shake free the dark thoughts from her mind. It was an exhausting day, she reminded herself, and her soul might feel somewhat more settled after a good night's rest.

Colette intended to go straight to bed, but her path from the linens room, where the laundry bins were kept, to her own bedroom went by the King's study. The sound of voices from within gave her pause, and in the dim hall she could see the light of the fireplace outlining the door to the study with a warm glow. What was that trollop up to with her King...? Cursing herself for an improper fool, Colette knelt in the hallway, and raised her eye to the dim ember of the keyhole.

King Roland was resting back on the chaise-lounge, with Leana sitting on his lap like a common tavern wench, one of her arms cradling His Grace's neck. The maid took a long pull of the King's wine before setting aside the glass, and, mouth closed tight, leaned over and gave the King a long, deep kiss.

"Very refreshing, just as you promised," King Roland said playfully once their embrace was broken.

"Spiced wine is just the thing to warm an exhausted heart, Your Grace," Leana replied, her free hand resting on the King's broad chest, "Although I hope my choice of goblet was pleasing to you."

"I have no complaints," the King said with a chuckle.

"May I suggest another capacity in which I may serve Your Majesty?" Leana asked seductively, toying with the King's lapel.

"Certainly," His Grace replied, taking her gently by the wrist, "But, first... do you desire to serve me, and only me, for all the rest of your days?"

"Of course, Your Grace," she purred, "Nothing could possibly be better."

"Not even marriage, to a man who you could call your own?"

"What man in all of the world could compare to you, Your Grace? I only weep for the day when I grow too old to warm your bed."

"Even if I disgrace you with bastard after bastard, and all the kingdom knows you to be a whore and tramp?"

"To be a whore for a King is a badge I will wear with pride, Your Grace," she said, easing off his lap and taking back her arms, "And any woman should be honoured to be graced with your royal seed." She began unlacing his breeches. "As for the other, yes... bastards carry the sin of their conception in their hearts, it is said, so if bastards are to be my fate, then I will bear you as many wicked bastards as you like, who will grow up strong and cruel and serve their trueborn brother as his dark knights. So, disgrace me, Your Majesty, and I will bear it as a blessing."

Colette could not say why she knelt there, arrested by what she saw through the keyhole. Some sick, reptilian emotion, her love for her King twisted about with jealousy and outrage and shame and the perverse voyeur thrill of watching Leana as she pulled the royal cock free from his smallclothes and delicately guided it to her sex... it held her there, helpless, to watch what was about to occur. She knew the King slept with his maids, had fucked the witch and his prisoners, and that had not bothered, but some how her King's rejection gave this act some sweet, sharp, terrible edge that penetrated her thoroughly.

As Leana began to ride the royal cock, she sighed sensuously. "Oh, yes, Your Grace, fuck your bastard into me..." she moaned, hands cupping her sizable breasts and tweaking her nipples through the fabric of her uniform. King Roland, for his part, was wrapped up in the vision of his dusky maid pleasuring herself on the royal sceptre.

As Colette watched their coupling, her hands went, unbidden, to the cleft of her thighs, teasing at her sex subconsciously. When she realized what she was doing, Colette forced herself to stop, but found that her need was growing out of control. She gathered up a double fistful of her skirts to squeeze, in order to distract herself from her desire, but it was futile. The sickly sweet feeling of watching her beloved King fucking another woman after rejecting her had her completed entranced. Colette lifted her skirt up to her mouth and bit down on the fabric, hoping it would be enough to stifle her cries, then began to savagely bear down on her sex. She sought out the sensitive little nubbin between her labia and rubbed at it with a desperate frenzy. Her eyes glued to the scene before her, Colette lost herself in the roil of pleasure and emotions, until it seemed to her that the three of them, Leana, the King and herself climaxed together, Leana's moans loud enough to drown out Colette's whimpers of pleasure.