Right of First Night

The Baron headed off through the manor, Robyn following him. He knew that Arnold would be in his office, working on the mountains of paperwork that the job entailed. On arriving outside his office door, the Baron looked at Robyn who looked nervous, but had kept her hands by her sides. The Baron knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, the door opened. Arnold, a fifty something tall slim man who was always exquisitely turned out greeted the Baron with a smile, then a look of mild surprise replaced it as he noticed Robyn standing there in the nude. Robyn's arms could not keep themselves pinned to her side any more, and suddenly one hand went over her crotch and the other arm over her chest.

Arnold admitted the two into his room, keeping his eyes at face height, determinedly not looking at Robyn's body.

"Hello Robyn," he said, formally.

"Hello Arnold," she replied.

Arnold had been chief official to the Baron's father for many years, and had therefore known Robyn since she was young, when she had come to the manor with her mother. It must have been strange for him to see her standing there as a fully grown, fully formed woman in all her naked glory.

"Robyn and I slept together last night," the Baron said, to fill the silence.

"Yes, I had come to that conclusion," Arnold replied, a slight smile on his face.

"So now I have to bring her to you, as my witness," the Baron continued.

"I am aware of the tradition," Arnold said, maintaining his usual formality.

Robyn, sensing Arnold's discomfort, suggested a compromise.

"How about if I just show you my boobs?" she suggested, shyly. This was clearly as awkward for her as it was for him.

The official paused then said, "that would seem to be a sensible resolution."

Robyn took a deep breath, then let her arm fall, her hand joining her other in keeping her crotch concealed.

Both Arnold's and the Baron's eyes moved down to Robyn's bare chest. The Baron tore his eyes away to look at Arnold, a man who had given up the opportunity to take a wife himself out of a sense of duty to his masters. A smile had crossed his face, pleasure at a perfect pair of breasts being displayed especially for him.

Eventually Arnold broke his gaze and returned it to Robyn's face, as did the Baron. Robyn was bright red by now, but still smiling. Robyn had always been fond of Arnold, and the Baron suspected she was pleased to have put a smile on his face.

"I need the certificate for Robyn," the Baron said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, of course," Arnold replied.

He picked an ornate scroll up from his desk, and offered it to the Baron.

"It just needs your signature, your Lordship," he said.

The Baron took the offered pen, his eyes scanning down the document he had seen so many times before. Only the name and date were ever different. Except...

"On the aforesaid date, the aforementioned peasant, Miss Robyn Briggs, of 5 Main Street, Oldtown, in the manorship of his most excellent Lordship, the Baron York, did present herself to the aforementioned Baron, and offer to render to him her maidenhood, and such offer was accepted and her maidenhood claimed, and in accordance with the law the aforementioned peasant shall heretoforth be regarded in law and in all other respects as a woman subject to the rights and duties attendant thereto."

Well, that was certainly different to the usual wording, which recorded that the peasant had offered her maidenhood but that it had been declined. The Baron could imagine the look on the faces of people to whom Robyn was required to present the certificate, and felt rather embarrassed for Robyn that the date and nature of her first time would be recorded in her official documents forever.

"But... how...?" he asked, wondering if the ever efficient Arnold always prepared both versions of the certificate just in case.

Arnold looked from the naked Robyn to the Baron and back again. Then Robyn and Arnold burst out laughing.

"What?" the Baron asked, confused.

"It has always been obvious to me that there is only one girl for you," Arnold said, still laughing. "I have been counting down the days until today for a long time."

The Baron felt rather left out. Robyn, the whole village, and even Arnold, seemed to have known that last night would happen. Only the Baron had been in the dark. Or had he, really?

The Baron hastily signed Robyn's certificate, and handed it to her. She read through it herself, and seemed delighted with it.

"Well, we'd better get you some clothes on!" the Baron exclaimed, taking a quick look at Robyn's body whilst he still had the chance.

Robyn headed out the door, and the Baron went to follow her. As he did, Arnold came close to him and whispered "you have the perfect girl there - now don't fuck it up!"

The Baron looked at Arnold, shocked. He'd never heard Arnold swear. But Arnold had gone back to his desk and picked up some papers, pretending that nothing had been said.

"Don't worry, I won't," the Baron assured him quietly.

The Baron took Robyn back to his room and went to retrieve her clothes for her. She dressed, and he showed her to the front door himself. The goodbyes were slightly awkward, but short. The village was only a short walk away, and Robyn set off down the long driveway, heading for home.

Relationships between the aristocracy and peasants were totally out of the question. They couldn't work. It would be a scandal. It was best he let her disappear back to her people, just as he had so many girls before her (though of course they had not stayed the night).

She didn't look back.

"Robyn?" the Baron called.

She turned, looking a little apprehensive.

"There's... there's a ball at Baron Lancaster's tonight. I've... got nobody to go with. What... are you doing anything this evening?" he shouted to her.

She smiled possibly the widest smile he'd even seen.

"What time do I need to be here?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her voice steady.

"About 7?" he said, his spirits leaping.

"I'll be here," she smiled, and disappeared off down the driveway, almost skipping.

The Baron returned to his room, and took down the declaration from the wall. He'd heard that some barons turned a blind eye to the rules these days, just sent the certificate out by post. Tradition is all well and good, but there comes a time when you have to leave these things in the past, move on into the future. And right now, the future seemed pretty good.