"You're to see the Queen tomorrow night for a few hours in her Quarters."
"O, no, no..." Beauty wailed, tossing her head from side to side.
"Don't be foolish. This is very good. You could not wish for better," and as he spook, he slipped his hand between her legs and pinched her lips gently.
She felt herself grow warm there.
"I was on the pavilion while you were running. The Queen was impressed in spite of herself," he went on, "and the Prince said you had always shown such form and spirit. And again, he pleaded for you, and that the Queen should not censure his passion. He agreed then not to see you tonight but to have a dozen or so new Princesses paraded before him..."
"Don't tell me any more!" Beauty cried softly.
"No, but don't you see, the Queen was enthralled with you and he knew it. She watched you closely as you ran, impatient for you to come to the pavilion. And it was she who said perhaps she should taste your charms herself to see if you were not as spoilt and vain as she had supposed. She will have you in her Quarters tomorrow night after supper."
Beauty cried softly, too spiritless to answer.
"But, Beauty, this is a great privilege. There are slaves here who serve years without ever being noticed by the Queen. You shall have your full opportunity to enchant her. And you shall, my dear, you shall, you cannot fail to do so. And the Prince has been clever for once. He has not worn his heart for all to see it."
"But what will she do to me!" Beauty whimpered. "And Prince Alexi, will he see all of it? O, what will she do?"
"O, she shall only make a plaything of you, of course. And you shall try to please her."
Chapter 15
THE QUEEN'S CHAMBER
HALF THE night was gone before the Queen came.
Beauty had dozed, then awakened again and again, to find herself still chained in the ornate bedchamber as if in a nightmare. She was bound to the wall, her ankles cuffed in leather, her wrists up over her head, her bu**ocks pushed against the cold stone behind her.
At first the stone had felt good. Now and then she twisted to leg the air touch the soreness. Of course the abraded flesh was much healed from last night's ordeal on the Bridle Path, but she still suffered, and she knew tonight she was surely destined for more torment.
Not the least of it, however, was her own passion. What had the Prince awakened in her that after one night of no satisfaction, she should feel so wanton? It was the stirring between her legs that first brought her out of sleep in the Slaves' Hall, and now and then she felt it as she stood waiting.
The room itself lay in shadow and unbroken stillness. Dozens of thick candles burned in their heavy gilded holders, the wax spilling in rivulets through the traceries of gold. The bed with its tapestried draperies appeared a gaping cavern.
Beauty closed her eyes. She opened them again. And when she was again on the verge of dream, she heard the heavy double doors thrown open and suddenly saw the tall, slender figure of the Queen materialized before her.
The Queen moved to the center of the carpet. Her blue velvet gown cleaved to her girdled hips before flaring gently to cover her black pointed slippers. She gazed at Beauty with narrow, black eyes tipped up at the ends to give her a cruel expression, and then she smiled, her white cheeks dimpling though an instant before they had seemed as hard as white porcelain.
Beauty had lowered her eyes at once. Petrified, she watched covertly as the Queen moved away from her and seated herself at an ornate dressing table, her back to a high mirror.
With an off-handed gesture she dismissed the Ladies who stood at the door. A figure remained there, and Beauty, afraid to look, was certain it was Prince Alexi.
So her tormentor had come, Beauty thought. Her heart pounded in her ears, becoming a roar rather than a pulse, and she felt the bonds holding her helpless so that she could not have defended herself against anyone or anything. Her breast felt heavy, and the moisture between her legs greatly agitated her. Would the Queen discover it and use it to further punish her?
Yet mingled with her fear was some sense of her helplessness, which had come over her the night before and never left her. She knew how she must appear, she was afraid, but she could do nothing and she was accepting it.
Maybe this was a new strength, this acceptance. And she needed all her strength, for she was alone with this woman who had no love for her. Without words, she evoked a memory of the Prince's love, of Lady Juliana's affectionate touch and warm words of praise, even of Leon's caressing hands.
But this was the Queen, the great powerful Queen who ruled all and who felt nothing but coldness and fascination for her.
She shivered against her will. The throbbing between her legs seemed to slacken and then to grow slightly more intense. Surely the Queen was staring at her. And the Queen could make her suffer. And there would be no Prince to witness it, no Court, no one.
Only Prince Alexi.
She saw him now, moving out of the shadows, a naked form exquisitely proportioned, the dark golden skin making him seem a polished statue.
"Wine," said the Queen. And he was moving to pour it for her.