Royal Sentence

"Get your dirty paws off me, you lawless brutes!"

Count Roland d'Ypagne frowned as his eyes rose from the ciphered message to search for the cause of the racket. Finding nothing, he reclined in his hard chair and pinched the top of his nose. It was the end of King Louis XIII's first military campaign and he couldn't wait to return to the Louvre. The abandoned farm he had commandeered for his lodgings was far from comfortable, even after replacing the missing lauzes on the roof and fixing the door. The small windows were covered in stretched and oiled animal skin in lieu of glass, and the light was so dim he had to use a candle in the middle of the day. His eyesight was fading and he could feel the warning signs of major headache.

Behind him, his page and valet were playing dice, seated on a blanket in front of the fire. What could have been a peaceful domestic scene was abruptly interrupted by a blood curdling scream and the sharp sound of a slap.

The door burst open and a slender form was thrown to the ground. Two burly Swiss mercenaries walked in behind her. "I apologize for the disturbance, my Lord, but the bitch bit me, and she has good teeth!" The first man rubbed held out his bleeding hand as a proof, his face brimming with indignation.

Roland cocked an eyebrow, a slight smile stretching the edges of his mouth. "And you hit her! You know I do not condone violence against the fairer sex. I cannot believe that you couldn't subdue her. It was two of you against one small woman."

He waived towards the delicate nymph who was struggling to sit up, her hands and ankles tied up in leather bounds. Her fair skin was flushed, even more so where a flaming red hand print covered her cheek. Two brown orbs were throwing metaphorical daggers at him, the nostrils of her delicate nose flaring up in anger. Her heart shaped mouth was swollen and her chin trembled, framed by honey colored strands escaped from her braid. She was deliciously upset.

Roland's grin widened and he strode towards her, stopping about three feet from her wiggling body. He bowed low, with a flourish: "Mademoiselle de Brissard, welcome to my humble abode. I am afraid it does not have all the comforts a woman of your birth could expect, but I believe it is preferable to jail, don't you agree? You will remain here until his Majesty decides your fate. I wouldn't be too optimistic, if I were you. You have, after all, rebelled against him and murdered two of his tax collectors."

She glowered at him, yet refused to speak.

"Did you search her?"

The same man answered, his companion merely nodding in agreement. "We frisked her, and she fought us like a female possessed. You should call a priest, my Lord, I wouldn't be surprised if she harbored a devil."

Chuckling, Roland shook his head. "I very much doubt so. Did you take off her boots?" The soldier cleared his throat, embarrassed. He was a member of the Reformed Religion and believed women were sin. "No, we just checked her clothing..."

Roland's smile vanished. "This isn't good enough. Do you know our King's father was stabbed with a knife that had been hidden in his murderer's boot? His Majesty himself will visit me later today to meet our prisoner, you would put HIS life at risk with your negligence? Pull off her shoes and socks now!"

Crestfallen, the two mercenaries crouched and grabbed the girl's feet. Roland watched with interest as she hissed and kicked uselessly at them. It turned out he was right. Two slim blades were laced around her calves and another pair hidden in the boot's soles.

"Hold her head." Roland was fast enough to avoid getting hit when she spat at him. He undid her plait, and a long needle fell down.

The vocal Swiss whistled. "She is armed to up her teeth! Well, even her teeth are weapons..."

Roland stood up and tilted his head. He doubted they had found everything. He had to conduct a more thorough , intimate search and for this he would have to undress her.

He knelt on her legs, caught her face in his hands, and brought his mouth close to her ear. "The King put me in charge of finding you, lovely Sabine. I know that you were raped and beaten by a band of mercenaries pretending to act on his orders. It wasn't true. They had been sent by Concini. I know that they left you for dead and burnt your castle. Which is why you went on a rampage and swore revenge, and why the King wants to judge you himself. Now, I have to disrobe you to ensure you are not concealing more weapons. I can have these gentlemen do it in front of me, or I can send everyone out and do it myself. Just you and me. I am willing to offer you this because I believe you have suffered enough, and deserve some privacy. But I don't care either way. So choose, my sweet, and do it fast. My time is precious."

His voice was barely a whisper but she heard it loud and clear. Sabine shivered. She didn't want to be touched, neither by him, nor by his henchmen. Yet she did not wish for more humiliation. Besides, he would have to untie her to get her clothes off. He looked strong, yet one man was a challenge she could win, and maybe escape.

Slowly, she nodded. "You alone, please." Those three words crushed her pride, and she lowered her gaze to the floor in shame. She had sworn to herself that she would not beg a man again, and she had relented on her promise.

Roland's hand caressed her sore cheek and lifted her chin. "Do not resist and it will be over fast. No matter what, I won't hurt you, Sabine, you have my word."

He had the soldiers carry her to the blanket by the hearth before sending them to wait outside, with his page and valet. As the door closed, Sabine's heart sank. Here she was, helpless into a male's power, again. Her mind began to spin and her breathing became erratic. She couldn't bear this. She twisted, pulling on her bounds and hurting her shoulders.

"Shh, calm down. Here, drink."

A goblet of fresh water was pressed against her lips and she gulped it nervously. "I am not a savage, I don't force women. For me to take you, you will have to ask, prettily."

She nearly choked. "Don't flatter yourself , I would never. I doubt any ever did..."

He chortled. "You would be surprised, my dear. This, however, isn't the point. I need to strip you. Are you ready?"

She glared at him. Of course she wasn't. What choice did she have? Giving him a curt nod, she braced herself.

She was dressed as a man. It was comfortable and didn't catch on twigs when she rode through the forest. Her leather doublet was already open and he simply slid it over her shoulders and down her arms, leaving it hanging off her wrists. He squeezed and creased every inch of it and found nothing. He did the same with her breeches, turning them over her ankles. Up to then he had not touched her, and she was grateful, but neither did he free her limbs. She was going to end up naked and bound, totally at his mercy, and it terrified her.

Next he grabbed the hem of her chemise. Going at a snail's pace, he dragged it from the middle of her creamy thighs up to her chest, his knuckles ever so slightly grazing her skin, and paused at her chest band while she released the breath she was holding.

"Remember, I won't force you and I won't hurt you. May I pursue?"

She blinked, too anxious to speak.

He rolled the fabric higher and drew it over her head, letting if pool over her doublet. Again, he examined it.

Sabine was so tense she thought she would snap. She was left in the layer of cloth wrapping her breasts and her underpants.

"Keep your eyes on me, don't close them." Roland wanted her to be fully aware of her surroundings, so that she wouldn't lose her mind to panic. He picked the sharpest of her discarded knives and wiggled the blade under the bandage. "Do not move." The steel made short work of the fabric. He peeled it away, revealing two exquisite plump mounds and a tiny dagger.

Roland was torn between the need to laugh at the amount of weaponry she had been carrying and the desire to massage the ugly red marks away from her perfection. "Tsk, tsk, beautiful Sabine. I was reluctant to conduct an internal probe, yet you are leaving me no choice, aren't you?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "You said you wouldn't force me!"

"And I won't, fear not. I will use my finger, and I swear I will make it quick."

He undid the tie of her underwear and brought it down before she could overcome the shock.

"No!" Unable to endure any more, Sabine coiled her knees to her chest and kicked his chest with all her might, knocking the wind out of him.