Mari was reeling from the conversation she had just had with the Queen...Her Father had come barging into the palace demanding she be punished for the disgrace and worry she had caused him. He hadn't cared how she was to fulfil her duty to the "gracious" Prince for her dishonouring of him, but he would leave it the capable hands of the Crown.
Mari stared at her paleness in the mirror. She had not returned for this. To be humiliated, and trussed over a wooden bar to be humbled morning and night. It would not happen!
Mari rushed to her wooden chest, and rifled until she found the razor sharp jewelled blade she had been given by her Mother before she had died. She walked with shaking hands back toward the mirror and took a deep breath and a large clasp of hair. She slowly brought the knife up and ran the knife easily through her soft hair. The strands fell as she set to work. When she was done, she peered at her reflection. Her eyes were huge and she looked very different.
She thought of how Reina was being used at that precise moment and she hurried back to her chest for the only suitable clothing she knew she had. She disrobed and quickly as she could, tearing mercilessly at the silk mauve bodice, and tore it with savage glee. It lay in tatters at her feet. She stamped on it for effect. She sat on the bed, as she pulled long black soft leather trousers, and a matching black silken top. Over that she pulled a warm burgundy under cloak, and atop of that, a midnight blue riding cloak. She looked at herself in the mirror and knew there would be no going back from this. Once the Royals knew of her escape, she would not be able to return.
She climbed through the large window above her small balcony and checked to see if any guards were bellow. Her escape route was clear, and without thinking, she quickly moved back inside to finish by pulling on her boots.
She landed with an agonising jolt through her body. She crouched low, and listened for the call of alarm. The dusk painted the sky bloody red, and made the air chilly. Her hands came down to feel the dry grass and she marvelled for a moment how her senses had suddenly heightened. She pushed to her feet, and moved quickly, keeping to the wall. She was still a Lady but none would recognise her. She ran along the wall, hidden by the weaving maze of hedges, and made it to the tall old tree she had climbed as a child when escaping this garden. The tree was the same, and her escape was as practised as if she were still a girl of 10.
She had coin, jewels and gold. She knew she would have to buy a horse as soon as she could. They would know once they found her badly hidden hair that she did not intend to return. She looked back once and gave a disrespectful flip of her hand at The Royal Palace and those who dwelt there, and turned her back on them for good.
***
Reina was in agony. She had been tied over a frame that tilted her forward, and splayed her legs apart. Between them a woman was gently tickling her now bare slit. She was aching, and whimpering. The man in front of her had his cock in his hands, and occasionally rubbed it across her cheek. She yearned to take it into her mouth, but they kept asking her questions she couldn't answer. Silly things about stories she had never heard of.
Each time she got the answer wrong, the bitch who had been tasked with diddling her would work her toward climax, and then she'd struggle for the answer they told her she'd already been told. How could anyone concentrate on something like that, when they ached for climax.
Reina hadn't realised she would enjoy an audience. It heated her in a way she had never known.
Reerdon was laughing and drinking out of her line of sight, but she could hear him and cursed him under her breath.
