Beauty sat down in the small carved chair and began to write:
Prince Dmitri,
This is a proud and haughty girl, thoroughly spoiled but capable of reformation. The harshest and most effective instruments of the village are recommended. I commit her to your authority and your judgment for as long as you think best. And she is not to be returned until she has completely surrendered to your utmost satisfaction.
To this Beauty signed her name quickly, and then blotted the note carefully. She rolled the stiff page into a small tight scroll, binding it with one of the many scarlet ribbons laid out for the purpose. Then into a small silver cylinder, she placed the note. And with a bit of wax and the impress of her ring she sealed the cap of the cylinder.
She approached the girl who had not moved an inch from her former position. Something about the girl from the back made her think of herself. It was not only the flaxen hair. It was the girl’s size and proportions. They were made from the same physical mold, it seemed, Beauty and this girl, though how different was Becca in temperament.
“Kneel up and open your mouth,” she said.
At once Becca did as she was commanded. Beauty slipped the silver cylinder sideways into her mouth, like a bit. The girl was shocked. Clearly no one had put a gag or a bit into her mouth in a very long time. But she held the cylinder between her teeth obediently. She began to shiver.
Tereus had only just returned.
“The message has been sent, my queen.”
“Give the little parcel here to the Prince when he comes,” she said. “My instructions are there.” She pointed to the cylinder.
Becca’s eyes were squeezed shut and she was crying. Yes, she is so like me, thought Beauty suddenly. This girl tugged at her heart, but Beauty only smiled. I know what she needs, she thought. I shall not fail her any more than I have failed Lord Stefan.
ii
Outside the council chamber, Beauty paused. She could hear the busy voices of those within. She knew that she was late. So many decisions had to be made. There was so much business every day. But she waited. She stood quiet, her attendants waiting unquestioningly behind her, and her beloved pet, Brenn, kneeling on all fours at her side.
Why had she not punished Becca for impertinence herself? It would have been easy enough to do. She knew how to wield the paddle. Why had it not given her pleasure to think of disciplining the girl into submission the way she herself had once been schooled in submission—through pain and pleasure? Beauty had surrendered utterly and sublimely to her punishments, glorying in them, grateful for cold implacable authority as much as for affection, grateful for severity as for ardor, hungering for engulfing discipline as much as love.
She had been tempted, yes, for just a moment. But the girl for all her anxiety and confusion had not really captured Beauty’s keen interest. If Beauty were ever to wield the paddle and the strap with passion it would be for a slave more like this one, Brenn, whose stout soul bewitched her, a slave she could break in the name of perfection rather than mere correction, a slave whose lust for discipline was his lure. And who knew, perhaps someday, someday she could do this. She did not know.
As she looked down at Brenn, at his soft curly black hair, and straight shoulders, a shadow fell over her, and she woke from her thoughts to see the King standing there.
“What is it, dearest?” Laurent whispered. “We’re all waiting. Just the usual matters, nothing more.”
When she did not answer, Laurent spoke to the slave beside her.
“Brenn, you go in now and kneel by the Queen’s chair.” He motioned to the attendants to leave them as well.
At once Brenn moved to obey, and the King and Queen, outside the doors to the council chamber, were alone.
“Beauty, what is it?” Laurent asked. “You’re not still troubled by self-doubts, are you, my lovely one?”
Beauty wished she could find words to answer, to explain.
“Forgive me, my lord,” she said. “I’m coming better to understand myself every day.”
“I have always understood you,” said Laurent. “You cannot be all things to all subjects, Beauty. You can only love them in your own way.”
She smiled. “My own way,” she said. “Yes, my own way.”
“Did Eleanor ever offer her slaves understanding or comfort?” Laurent pressed. “Did Eleanor ever grasp the power of loving discipline rather than severity and disdain?”
Beauty smiled. “No, you’re right. She never did understand the subtleties.”
“Beauty,” he said as he bent to kiss her. “Be the Queen of Bellavalten in your own way.”
It was enough for now, wasn’t it? She nodded. She put her hand into Laurent’s hand.
No sooner had they stepped into the council chamber, and no sooner had those gathered there risen to bow and to greet them, than she was the confident and smiling queen once more. Bellavalten, she thought, how deeply I do love you.
And how very odd, wasn’t it, that she had no doubt that Bellavalten loved her in return.
The enigmatic Lexius, tall, slender, dark skinned, and dark eyed—the silken and seductive steward of the Sultan whom Laurent had brought back to Bellavalten as a slave, was indeed coming. Two letters reached the kingdom before he did. And it was the opinion of Alexi that Lexius might arrive at any moment.
“Of course I want to hear the whole story,” said Laurent. “What did he do? What do you mean he broke the old queen’s heart?”
Beauty walked down the long corridor with Laurent, her left hand on his right hand, both of them sumptuously dressed for yet another day of official decisions, but headed now to a small hall where they could meet only with the inner circle, so to speak—Alexi, Dmitri, Rosalynd, Elena, and the indispensable Lady Eva. No important meeting took place without the attendance of Lady Eva, busy as she might be with the postulant slaves and the novices.
“If some scandal surrounds this man, we should know of it,” Beauty affirmed. “And I know, my lord, how he’s always fascinated you.”
“And you mean to say, lovely one, that he didn’t fascinate you?” asked Laurent. He was cheerful, in good spirits as always. He woke each single morning with a new enthusiasm for life, fully embracing his priapic duties with a stamina that amazed Beauty. But then Laurent’s stamina, in all forms, had always amazed Beauty, she had to admit, so why was she surprised at this?
“Yes, he fascinates me,” said Beauty. “But I was never drawn to him once you made him your plaything. But as I said, we must find out what actually happened.”
It was a lovely day of balmy breezes and blue skies, with only a thin mist streaking the sky over the valley here and there, and likely to burn off by noon.
All was well with the realm, but yesterday had been an exhausting day for the monarchs, with many audiences and decisions to be made. Three returning grooms—dismissed by the late queen—had asked for an audience, and the Court had heard their plea, along with the petitions of others, for hours on end. Two beautiful dark-skinned African eunuchs had come to the kingdom, begging for sanctuary, so to speak, and a strange and mighty northern lord appeared with two naked slaves trained by him in a remote castle whom he wanted to sell to the kingdom “for their own good.” Artists and merchants petitioned to be admitted to the villages and hamlets. So many different matters to consider.
Beauty was happy today to be meeting only with the small council, and she greeted those standing about the table with genuine warmth.
“Well, be seated all,” Laurent said. “Let’s have some cider, if you will, and perhaps some sweetmeats, and get to talking straightaway about Lexius.”
Laurent took the head of the table and Beauty the chair to his right. Alexi sat down opposite Beauty, with Dmitri beside him, and the ladies across from one another after that. Lady Eva settled at the foot of the table with her quill and ink, and bound book for note taking.
“So what is all the mystery?” asked Beauty.
At once the others looked to Alexi, and he, seeing this, made a small graceful gesture of acceptance with both hands. He looked most beautiful this morning to Beauty, with his auburn hair now considerably longer than it had been at their first meeting, a prince from a tapestry, in her mind, and as always he was impeccably turned out in the finest patterned silk tunic, and adornments that suggested the treasures of Byzantium.
No one devoted to the new kingdom had given any more passion and devotion than Alexi. Not even Dmitri, who worked tirelessly every day to refine the Place of Public Punishment, or Lady Eva herself, or even Rosalynd and Elena, who were in charge of the nightly spectacles in the castle gardens.
Beauty had a special love for these two sisters who’d shared captivity in the sultanate, and she found them most appealing. Rosalynd in her mind had attained the pinnacle of buxom voluptuousness, whereas the smaller, more delicate Elena was a clever-tongued tasty sylph with high pointed breasts and a low purring voice that delighted Beauty.
“I shall be spokesman, then, why not?” said Alexi, raising his eyebrows and settling against the carved back of the chair. “I’ll tell what I know. But some things I do not know, and perhaps others here will be inspired by my candor.”
“What the hell happened?” asked Laurent with a little wink and smile. “Get to it! We were bound together night after night in the hold of the ship that brought us back here, he and I, bound, bound by our delicious desires. I probably did more to train him than anyone who came after.”
That produced a low respectful bit of laughter from everyone.
“Well, I think you did,” said Alexi. “As you know he was brought before the Queen, accepted reluctantly because the Queen would not have anyone choose slavery of his own will, and then packed off to the kitchen. But the report soon came upstairs that he was wilting like a lily under the coarse treatment of the servants and ought to be tended with more care. So she sent for him.”
He paused and shrugged. “I was her favorite as everyone knew,” he said, his voice philosophical rather than mocking, “and I can’t say I was delighted to see him absorb so much of her attention.”
“Of course not,” said Laurent, with a gesture for Alexi to continue.
“Well, she had time enough for both of us,” said Alexi. “And Lexius was as abject and servile as any naked slave who ever kissed the Queen’s slippers. He was graceful by instinct, and knew subtleties of service that no one can teach. He had a lissome charm and an eloquence in ignominy that was breathtaking. Of course I did with him what I had done before with others—I seduced him while the Queen slept and proved a harsher master than she was a mistress.”
“Ah, so that’s how it was with you two,” said Laurent.
“Yes,” said Alexi. “Lexius taught me how to master him in his submission. We had to be careful, of course. The old queen forbade all such trysts among her slaves, though they happened throughout the castle nightly. And he and I were never caught. Meanwhile the Queen delighted in talking about how Lexius had once been a powerful steward of slaves under his former master, the Sultan, and constantly demanded he offer up to her refinements and innovations in the ways slaves should be displayed and used at Court. And he was more than willing to do it.
“Then at night he became my adoring attendant! Well, all this might have gone on for years and years, but the Captain of the Guard came up and informed the Queen that the sultanate was in grave danger, and almost certain to be destroyed. Soldiers had heard the rumors from the sailors putting in. And soon the Queen confirmed the worst: a powerful army was gathering to invade the sultanate and other realms like it.
“The Captain of the Guard was adamant that if he were to rescue Dmitri, Rosalynd, and Elena, he had to have Lexius with him. Lexius knew the sultanate after his years there. He could find a way for the Captain to accomplish the rescue speedily, and speed was of the utmost importance.
“So the Queen had Lexius groomed and dressed from head to toe, and armed for battle. Lexius was well acquainted with weapons, and swore to assist the Captain in every possible way. And off they went at once to the docks to board the ship for the secretive mission.
“Well, you can imagine what this must have been like for Lexius who for two years at least had been a naked plaything. Here he was once again possessed of the implements of power.
“He and the Captain accomplished the mission, with only a few nights to spare, and before they even returned the sultanate was destroyed utterly. Lexius and the Captain had both warned the Sultan of what was to come, by letters left for him which he would not receive until they were safely away with their charges. But whether that was of any help at all no one ever knew. The sultanate was obliterated. And the custom of pleasure slavery was stamped out in that land forever, though not by persons who had the slightest interest in it. It simply fell out that way.”
“And so you were all brought back at that time,” Beauty said. She paused and looked at Dmitri.
“Yes, my queen,” Dmitri said. “It was all quite sudden. To be immersed in the village again was quite sudden.”
Rosalynd and Elena laughed knowingly, and Elena shook her head.
“Go on, Alexi,” said Beauty.
“Well, I did not before this time think the old queen had loved Lexius, but I should have known that she did. And when he returned, when he brought these slaves back to her feet, I should have observed more carefully the way that she looked at him. Picture it, if you will. Here, this languid, sinewy, and feline man who’d been her naked doll, and suddenly there he was before her in a long black velvet tunic, purloined from the fallen sultanate, trimmed with magnificent designs, his fingers covered in massive rings, his jeweled sword belt girdling his waist and his weapon now not the broadsword he’d taken with him but a gleaming scimitar. He brought the slaves to her in golden collars and chains and, making her a magnificent bow, assured her that they had offered complete compliance in their rescue.”
“How fortunate for them,” said Laurent with a laugh.
“Yes, well, I should have seen her black eyes devouring him, devouring all the delicious aspects of his person, his seductive Eastern dignity. But I didn’t see it.
“Well, she said that having such pampered and spoiled slaves returned to Court wouldn’t do, and that Lexius was to take them down to the village and see they were appropriately worked and punished there so that all the cloying softness was removed from them. Lexius was to remain in the village at Jennifer Loxley’s inn and watch over them daily. She said a month or two would be sufficient for Lexius to ensure that things were being done properly, and then he was to return to her. But in the meantime he might make himself entirely comfortable in the inn and do whatever he liked.”
“Ah,” said Beauty. “What a stunning idea. So he would enjoy this freedom, this privilege, and then come back to her naked and abject.”
“Yes, that is it, exactly,” said Alexi. “But how much Her Majesty understood of what she was doing here is not clear. She wanted total obedience and that seemed her emphasis. And maybe she thought this time in the village was some sort of reward to Lexius for his bravery in journeying to the sultanate on the eve of war. I mean she wanted to reward him in some way.”
Alexi shifted in his chair. He was speaking almost entirely to Beauty now but didn’t seem to realize it, but Beauty realized it, and as always she loved to watch the shifting expressions of his face, and she loved the tone of his voice.
“Anyway, down to the village Lexius went with plenty of her gold,” Alexi said, “and so went Dmitri and Elena and Rosalynd to be punished there. And all were sent initially to the stables. But Lexius had leave to take them out of harness at any time and subject them to the Public Turntable, the Punishment Shop, or whatever he thought appropriate.
“Now, the mayor at that time was the only keeper of
female ponies in the village, and his stable was much smaller and infinitely more elegant than the public stable. But you know all this, of course. Well, it was a new sight for Lexius. And he fell in love with the high style of the harnesses, the plumes, the golden bits, and shapely boots worn by the female ponies. And so did Elena and Rosalynd.” Alexi paused and looked to them for confirmation.
“Oh, absolutely,” said Rosalynd. “It was superb, all of it, and the stable, small as it was, all polished and shining, more like a great, how shall I say, stage setting perhaps than a real place, and the grooms were magnificent—big powerful boys with huge hands and loving voices. We had such fun with them. But then, Your Majesty, you see what we have done with your own stables. And it all began there.”
Elena blushed and nodded. She glanced sideways at the Queen. “The old stable there is nothing compared with your own stables today. But please understand, we’d never seen anything like it.”
“Well, the genius behind it,” said Alexi, “was Sonya, and Sonya, a niece of the mayor, was one of the fairest women in the village. She had mountains of wavy black hair and bewitching eyes, not to mention a lovely voice, and she was madly devoted to her fillies.
“A single look passed between Sonya and Lexius and both were undone. But more of that shortly.
“Lexius returned to the castle after two months as the Queen demanded, and knelt at her feet and accepted her pronouncement. He should be stripped of his finery and once more serve her in her private chambers.
“I was very glad to see him come back as I missed our secret meetings. And the Queen again thought nothing of this except that he was to prove his undying devotion.
“Well, Lexius very respectfully and with his Eastern polish made a proposal to Her Majesty. Let him go every month for at least two nights to the inn, once more clothed and with gold in his pockets, so that he might check on his charges. And would not this back and forth, he asked, serve to make him even more keenly aware than ever of his devotion to his queen?”