One Last Lesson for The Emperor

Ruthe studied her pupil from head to toe while he was pouring himself a glass of water, after their dance lesson.

She thought that the young Emperor had grown into a fine young man. Ruthe had been training him ever since he had been a teenager.

He was not her first pupil, of course.

Ruthe's mother had been a background dancer in the imperial menagerie, and that very nearly would have become her own fate as well. But Ruthe had worked very hard, starting at the tender age of twelve, quickly becoming the best dancer in the house. She could have become the star of the show. While she had not been the most beautiful girl in the menagerie, her technique was sublime, and her training relentless.

Ironically, it were her skill and her ambition that ultimately got in her way.

The more powerful and sophisticated she became, the more she noticed the flaws and mistakes of other people.

At first, she was giving unsolicited advice. Then came the mockery. Not just towards other dancers and performers - the showmasters themselves were not safe from her insights.

Ruthe never once raised her voice or used gross insults. And yet, when she wanted to, she found she could discipline or even humiliate people without mercy.

Finally, she tried taking control of the whole operation. One fateful night, during the opera festival, she criticized the showmaster in front of the entire cast. She made him cry and retreat into his chambers. Satisfied, Ruthe appointed herself substitute showmaster, and ran the show by herself.

No one else dared to challenge her.

The show was a great success, but Ruthe was not able to enjoy her glory for long. As it turned out, as skillful as she was, nobody really liked her anymore, at that point.

The showmasters and the other performers banded together behind her back to have her kicked out of the menagerie.

That would have been Ruthe's end, thrown out into the streets. But as much as they hated her, the leader of the menagerie decided that wasting Ruthe's knowledge and skill would have been even more distasteful. She put in a good word for young Ruthe, pulled some strings.

And thus, Ruthe became a dance instructor.

It was a big change for her, but after her intial anger subsided, Ruthe quickly found that she enjoyed her new job even more. She had always been more interested in perfecting the art itself than being on stage, anyway. Rather than being stared at by aristocrats who dressed in silk but drooled like pigs over her skimpy outfits, she could kick their bratty children around. Polish them until they were able to move their inbred highborn flesh with a minimum of grace.

With her relentless perfectionism, Ruthe could turn hopeless cases into adequate dancers, and talented kids into shining stars.

On top of the dance lessons, Ruthe expanded over the years into teaching etiquette, poetry and classic literature. Rounding out a perfect education for the purposes of high society.

Word quickly spread, and Ruthe became rich and famous.

Even the menagerie, which had once kicked her out in shame, soon decided to swallow their pride and let her train their young dancers. A mission which she accepted with grace... And impish glee.

It was only a matter of time until she caught the attention of the Empress herself.

Still in her twenties, Ruth moved into her own spacious apartment in the imperial palace.

Even after all of this hardship and triumph, though, training the heir to the throne was a bit intimidating at first. Ruthe was painfully aware that even with her fame and wealth, she was still a commoner. That imperial caterpillar could have her executed at the drop of a hat, if her teaching methods displeased him. Still, Ruthe decided that she would work on him as mercilessly as she had on all of her other students, and if that got her killed, she would die as a martyr.

Luckily for her, the heir to the Empire was a mild-mannered and well-behaved kid. He had absolutely no talent whatsoever, however, a typical case of two left feet. Physically, he was what you might call a perfect specimen - lean, physically strong, naturally good posture. It were his nerves and sense of balance that seemed to be the issue. Ruthe liked to think that he had the body of a giant ballet dancer... And the soul of a three-legged turtle perpetually lost in city traffic. The guy had a very hard time staying focused, and no coordination whatsoever. When Ruthe felt especially evil, she wondered if that was the incest shining through, having blissfully spared her protégé in every other regard.

But he looked up to her, respected her authority, listened to her every harsh criticism without protest.

Even if with a head as red as a beet.

Over time, against all odds, they came to genuinely like one another. She even got him to push back against her irreverent bullying, from time to time, nurturing his budding sarcasm.

He remained, it must be said, one of her worst students. Even after years of training, she never made a great dancer out of him. But she did turn him into a presentable one. Ultimately, he was able to dance with foreign princesses at the ball without hurting them, and bring honour to his house. Not only that, but he was able to impress his guests by reciting poetry in three different languages.

No longer stuttering, like when Ruthe had first met him. The Empress was delighted.

Now, the boy had come of age. First, as an adult. But two years after that, another metamorphosis was waiting for him. On his upcoming birthday, he would be officially crowned Emperor.

His time with Ruthe would finally come to an end.

They had been seeing each other less and less frequently, anyway. His military and political training had to take priority. The transition of power was in full swing.

Still, leading up to the ceremony, the Imperial family had asked Ruthe to give him one last refresher course.

Ruthe looked at her pupil with a wistful smile. A handsome young man, now. And yet, in many ways, still the clumsy, lanky, dreamy kid she had first met all these years ago.

Though still a reasonably young woman herself, Ruthe had discovered the first wrinkles in her face, and strands of grey hair on her head. Some of those hairs, she liked to attribute to the two left feet of her protégé.

Time was merciless. And Ruthe had always hated saying goodbye.

"Your majesty?" Ruthe asked, surprised at how uncharacteristically timid her voice sounded, and quickly bringing it under control again.

"Yes, master?" the boy replied. Even though he had always been considerably taller than her, even as a teenager, he had that weird skill of looking up to her as if she was a giantess. It had always annoyed her, sometimes to the point of irreverently slapping his royal butt. But admittedly, it also amused her.

She walked towards him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you join me in my apartment. Let's have some tea."

He nodded, with a sheepish smile. This was not unusual. Sometimes, they would sit together for hours, talking or reading books together. Over the years, after some especially rough days, she had even let him massage her shoulders and feet, or help her unzip her dresses.

She took his hand and gave him an impish grin. "Thank you kindly, your majesty. After all, this might be one of the last occasions to have tea with the Emperor himself."

She waved his protests away. No use denying the obvious. His life was about to become very, very busy. Too busy for spending time with his poor old dance master.

Soon, they found themselves sitting side by side on Ruthe's bed. They were sipping tea which the young Emperor-to-be had once brought back as a gift from a faraway land.

"Anyway," Ruthe said in perfect innocence, not looking up from her cup. "Has your Imperial Mother already talked to you about marriage?"

He almost spit out his tea, and she could have kissed him. It was still so very easy to get a rise out of that silly boy.

"Errh... The thing is..." he stammered. "There have been... Candidates. It's all awfully interesting. I am supposed to choose my future Empress..."

Ruthe raised her eyebrows. "Already? Oh, my."

He let out a nervous chuckle. "My mother... She makes no secret of her wish for grandchildren. It's... How do I put it... She can be very direct?"

Ruthe nodded. She knew the Empress well.

The boy scratched his head, the way he always did when he was embarrassed. Once again, Ruthe took note of how long and slender his fingers were, as they were running through his plentiful auburn hair.

"To be honest, all of this is a little overwhelming, at times..." the boy continued. "It's all happening so fast... So much responsibility. I'm The Future of The Empire, see..."

"I know. The Empire is doomed," Ruthe sang. "Bummer."

The boy stuck out his tongue at her. "Thanks, master. You always know just what to say."

"I'm an educator," Ruthe said, taking another sip. "Comes with the territory."

-"Mhm. It's a miracle you haven't completely ruined me, you little monster."

"Ruin you completely, your majesty...?" she said with narrow eyes. "Just say the word. There's still time."

They looked at each other, and burst into laughter.

Ruthe playfully punched the boy on the shoulder. It hurt her more than him. How could a timid little bookworm be so densely packed with muscles? Very tense muscles...

"Cheer up, my little tyrant. You'll be fine. I mean it. Being Emperor suits you. You have a good head on your shoulders. A solid education, if I say so myself. As for having the self confidence of a puppy who just peed on the carpet? Nothing like keeping in mind that you hold the power to have people beheaded at will."

"Yeah... Good thing they don't hand that one out to just anyone," he scoffed. "I shudder, thinking about what someone like YOU would do, master..."

Ruthe stared into the distance. "It would be a massacre. Sometimes, I dream about it. Until the screams wake me up. It's beautiful."

Her delivery was exquisite, and that sent him over the edge. He threw his arms around her, laughing his royal butt off.

She smiled meekly, and kissed him on the cheek.

After he let go of her, they sat in silence for a moment. Ruthe noticed that the Emperor was sighing again, and staring at his hands.

"Hey. Is it really that bad?" Ruthe finally asked. "The whole imperial marriage thing?"

The young man nodded. "I know it's silly... But... I dunno. I cannot see myself courting someone. Becoming a husband. My father was a husband. All of those big foreign kings are husbands.

I'm just... Me. I feel like I'm just being... Thrown out there. What if I make a complete fool out of myself? I don't care that I'm the Emperor, if it just means that I'm a stupid, lost boy that women aren't legally allowed to say No to... All the power of the world cannot protect you from being... You. When I stand before a woman, what can I even give to her, beyond the uniform and decorations, all that stupid... pageantry you're all setting up for me?"

"Ah," Ruthe said dryly. "Quite the predicament..."

She picked up a biscuit, for a quick bite.

Then she said: "Alright. Let's see what we are working with here."

She patted him on the chest. "Unbutton that shirt for me, your majesty. I want to take stock of the goods."

Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows. There was that fierce red in his cheeks again.

But he looked intrigued. "Are you making fun of me, master?"

-"Always, your majesty. But the order still stands."

Clumsily, the young man started to undress, and Ruthe made a valiant effort to keep a straight face.

She took a deep breath through her nose. "All of it, actually. No use doing things half way."

He gulped, but obeyed. He gingerly slid out of his pants, and stockings.

He resisted the urge to cover himself with his hands. It cost him considerable willpower, but he held his head up high as he stood in front of his teacher, bare as the day he was born. She had put him into flimsy, skin-tight outfits in the past, to better study his muscles when he was moving. But nothing like this.

Ruthe put on a mask of exquisite indifference.

She hopped off the bed as well and walked towards him. She started circling him like a vulture.

She made a show of letting her eyes wander all over him, from head to toe, back to front, her cup of tea in her hand. Gently humming to herself. She heard him gulp again, and resisted the urge to laugh.

She let her hand travel over his chest. It took some time- it was a surprisingly broad chest. One thing Ruthe loved about nudity was how people seemed to look... bigger on the inside.

She let her hand slide further down, over the slight curvature of his belly, and she could feel him twitch. He was notoriously ticklish, the poor thing.

She put a hand under his chin, gently but firmly turning his head from side to side. The boy, all the while, was fighting to maintain a neutral expression. Ruthe quite enjoyed the feel of the little stubble on her fingers. Court etiquette demanded a cleanly shaved face, but Ruthe had made it clear that she preferred this look on him, and so he had instructed his barber accordingly.

For the grand finale, she pinched his butt.

"Was that really necessary, master," the boy said to this, without turning his head.

"You have no idea." Ruthe took his face in her hands. She could see his expression soften in relief when he noticed her satisfied smile.

"Permission to speak freely, your majesty," she said.

-"As if you've ever required my permission, master."

"You are very beautiful. A woman could get lost in all this, you know." She took a step back.

"And I'm not just saying this to make you feel better."

She chuckled.

"But all this is really just a teaching device. I wanted you to be naked when you hear this: You are a good man, your majesty. You have nothing to hide. Inside and out. Forget the uniform, your status, that pageantry, all that nonsense. I have taught you for several years now, and so I like to think I know what I'm talking about. You are kind, and honest, open-minded... Also, entertaining. Not always on purpose, but here we are."

He quickly blew a raspberry, which she rewarded with pinching his nose. "Sure, you'll make a fine leader... Especially if you go through with the reforms we've been talking about... But you'll also be a husband that will bring great joy to his wife, whoever she may be."

"Thank you, master," he said, his voice very soft now.

"You're welcome, boy. Why don't you sit back down, have another cookie." She winked at him. "You don't have to put your clothes back on, just yet. If you don't want to."

He chuckled, and let his bare butt drop onto her bed. "Then I won't, my gracious host. I am dying of shame inside... But it's not entirely unpleasant." He let out a tortured breath. "I feel... Lighter. It's not just the weight of the uniform on my body... It's like I am actually free of what it means, just like you say. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I am just... Myself."

Ruthe sat down next to him and patted his hand. Like a little bird perching on the broad back of a horse, Ruthe thought. "I'm glad to hear that, your majesty."

She looked away from him for a moment, pondering. Then she turned back to him with a shark-like grin. "So... What about women? Since you are to choose a wife... Have you ever seen a woman before?"

He looked confused. Then flabbergasted, when he realized what she was saying.

"I... No. Never. Just pictures, in my books..." He shook his head. "There was... Oh, this is awkward.

How do I put this... Shortly after I started seeing you, master, someone from the imperial guard took me to a... Uh..."

Ruthe rolled her eyes. "He took you to a brothel. To Make A Man Out Of You, as they say. In all due respect, your majesty, you noblemen are a bunch of swine."

He laughed in delight, immediately losing some of his tension.

"So what happened...?" Ruthe asked. Patiently. Softly.

-"I was terrified. At the last moment, I chickened out. I didn't even want to go into that place. I begged the man to take me back to the palace. He did, without hesitation. But it still felt humiliating. Like I was a useless baby..."

"You were not a useless baby," Ruthe said firmly. "You were just too young, your majesty. Way too young. They she should be ashamed of themselves."

Ruthe put her hand on his thigh, and looked him firmly in the eyes. "With that being said... Would you mind?"

She turned her back towards him. He caught her drift.

With trembling hands, but no hesitation, he unzipped her dress, like he had done so many times before. This time, however, she didn't bother stepping behind her folding screen.

Ruthe unceremoniously wormed her way out of her clothes.

She worked hard to keep her breathing steady, and thanked the heavens for her perfect discipline. She was feeling so very hot and cold at the same time.

She leaned back a little, allowed her pupil to study her form. After one last moment of deliberation, she even relaxed her legs, instead of pressing them together.

Ruthe had never been too worried about her looks. She knew she wasn't the most attractive girl around. But she had made her peace with that - she had always cared more about her artistic skills. About her success. About getting her way. She knew her worth as a person, as an honourable member of the court. She had been with several men over the years - sometimes women - and demanded nothing less from her lovers than unconditional worship. She wasn't one to hesitate to kick a man out of her bed - sometimes literally - if he fell short. Even aristocrats.

But being with the young Emperor, being seen by him... Perhaps for the first time in her life, she felt truly naked. Truly vulnerable. Of course, she would have rather died under torture than letting it show.

"There you go, your majesty," Ruthe said, defiantly. "A bit different from one of your little biology textbooks, I would think."

"Very," the boy wheezed, with big, round eyes. "Master... You are beautiful."

She chuckled, and rolled her eyes. "I know. But still, you're very sweet."

She laid down, and playfully turned around, to present her buttocks. She kicked her feet up and down, starting to feel giddy. Drinking in his utter admiration, as he was devouring her with his eyes. She was feeling so big and so small at the same time. It was as if there were ants running under her skin.

She crawled towards the middle of the spacious bed, and invited him to follow. They laid down next to one another, at a respectful distance.

"So..." Ruthe sighed. "Now that the original shock has worn of..."

"Debatable," the young Emperor interjected, giving her a reproachful look.

She stuck out her tongue, and continued: "... Clearly, you can see there is nothing to be scared of. Believe it or not, women are people, too. As you can see, I'm no more or less naked under all of those fancy clothes than you are. Same goes for all of those princesses."

Ruthe reflected for a moment on how to get her point across.

She pointed towards a scar, on her left thigh. "See this...? That's where I was bitten by a dog, when I was as young as you were, when we first met..."

She pointed to a spot on her hip. "Lovely colours, wouldn't you say? That's from last week, when the young duchess of the western provinces stumbled over her own feet and knocked me into a coffee table. Poor thing was inconsolable... Even before I expressed my displeasure. The next day, she sent me chocolates, as a peace offering. That reminds me... Notice how bloated my poor tummy is, today. Getting out of that corset earlier was pure bliss. And finally..."

She drew his attention to a spot near her left armpit. "That over here is a tattoo I got on a whim when I earned my first paycheck as a teacher, and got intoxicated in the most unladylike manner. I hate it."