Palace of Versailles, 1742...
The gilded halls and opulent splendor of the palace had attracted the elite nobility that the King of France had hoped.
They poured into the palace ballroom, dancing gracefully as the well trained orchestra played. Silk and satin dervishes of color filled the room as couples spun to an energetic waltz, while others conversed cheerily over glasses of wine.
Among them was a sole figure from across the ocean. High cheekbones, a small, button nose, and pouty lips all combined in a face that was mesmerizingly beautiful, while long dark brown hair tumbled down her back, the darkness giving a sharp contrast to her tan skin.
Her eyes had a smoky appearance, and her lips were a deep shade of red that was completely natural.
She was incredibly tall, thanks to long, slender legs that were visible through a slit in the skirt of her flowing grass green dress. The corset part of the dress was held up by firm yet relatively small breasts.
A few thin silver bracelets clung to her slim wrists, while a very beautiful silver necklace containing several sapphires hung from her neck.
She was stood by one of the windows, her eyes on the whirling pairs as they danced their way through a particularly fast number.
None of the men had offered to dance with her, and none of the women had struck up a conversation. Until one woman saw her across the ballroom and gave her one of the most breathtaking smiles she had ever seen.
She was incredibly beautiful, her narrow eyes a vivid shade of cerulean blue, long dark blonde hair tumbling down past her slender shoulders.
Her black and white pinstripe silk dress was almost as beautiful as she was, clinging to her body like a second skin and drawing attention to her supple curves.
There wasn't a man in the ballroom that hadn't stolen several glances at her. Quite a few women had too, though most were seemingly jealous of her beauty.
She glided across the ballroom with graceful ease, men and women stopping her every few steps to ask her to dance but she politely turned them all down, coming to join her by the window.
"Hello. My name is Fenella Rearden. It may be impolite, but you looked so very lonely over here. What is your name?" she asked, extending her hand in greeting.
"Dolores Ryker."
"It is nice to meet you. What brings you to Versailles? Because you do not seem like the usual guest."
"I am in France on a holiday, and since these balls are the talk of the country, I decided to see what all the commotion was about."
"Understandable. But I myself find them to be terribly boring in all honesty. So tedious, so repetitive. Would you care to join me in a walk of the gardens?"
"That sounds lovely."
Fenella swept from the ballroom with Dolores clinging onto her arm. The two women passed away into a garden full of exotic smells and vibrant colors, the flowers in full bloom as summer was in full swing.
As they passed through a row of arches, Fenella picked a rose from the bushes and gave it to Dolores, who ruefully smiled and accepted it with a nod.
She was unsure why, but Fenella was making her feel more respected and attractive than any of the upper class noblemen in the palace had.
"Versailles is so beautiful this time of the year." Fenella sighed. "I wish I could live here all year round."
"As do I. But your accent sounds like you are from Italy, if I am not mistaken. It would be little struggle for you to move here if you wished, if you are of noble birth."
"I spent a great deal of time in Rome, that is true. I picked up the accent. But I was originally from Romania."
"Hmm... I have always wished to visit that part of the continent, but I never seem to move on from France."
"Is that through choice or fate?"
"Fate mostly. But I must admit I enjoy it here, especially with such occasions as the one tonight."
"Maybe some day, someone will take you away from here and show you the rest of the beauty this world holds." Fenella smiled shyly, getting an equally bashful but beautiful smile in return.
"Maybe you." Dolores challenged softly, and Fenella briefly grinned, before glancing back at the palace.
"I couldn't. It would be improper. There are so many men out there that could take you." She said, a tinge of sorrow in her tone that wrenched Dolores' heart.
Stepping forward, she glanced around the gardens to ensure no one was watching them before taking Fenella by the hand and leading her into a small arbor.
Sitting Fenella down, she kept hold of her hand as she spoke. "You feel it, don't you, that pull between us?"
Fenella nodded.
"I feel it. I can't explain it. It feels like the way old poets describe the way love to be, but I shouldn't feel this way about a..."
"A woman? Why not? You cannot choose who your heart desires. And it is foolish to fight it if you know it is what you want." Dolores smiled, a smile that brought a quirk to Fenella's own lips and a slight blush to her cheeks.
"It is still improper. We would be cast out as perverts and freaks if anyone was to discover our... predilections."
"What predilections? We have done nothing except talk. And what is it to them what we do in the sanctuary of private quarters?"
"You have private quarters? How rich are you?"
"I have a small fortune. I come from a wealthy family, and now that they are dead, the fortune they amassed is mine. I would happily share it with you."
"What? You barely know me."
"So? Fenella, I cannot pretend that I do not want you. My heart beats faster and faster every time I look at you. All I can think of right now is how much I want to kiss you, hold you and... quite frankly I want to see just how perfect you are beneath that dress."
Fenella blushed again. Dolores placed her hand gently atop Fenella's, making her breath catch in her throat as she gazed at Dolores.
"You think I'm perfect?"
"Yes."
Fenella smiled shyly. She slowly turned her hand, her fingers parting to entwine themselves through those of Dolores.
Dolores grinned back at her, then leaned over to lasciviously whisper. "Would you like to see my private quarters?"
"Is that what you call it?" Fenella giggled, and Dolores bit her lip. Her laugh was husky and deep, sending a shiver of sexual want down her spine.
They stared at one another for several long moments, a thread of tension hanging in the air between them, and Dolores could see Fenella's resolve weakening.
Then she shivered. A chill was beginning to settle over the gardens as night closed in, and it was bitterly cold. Dolores shifted a little closer, letting her body heat warm Fenella.
"Shall we head in? It is rather cold." Fenella said quietly. Dolores stood and offered her arm to her. Fenella paused, then took it.
Arm in arm, they walked back into the palace, where the party was still in full swing. At the doors to the main hall, Fenella suddenly came to a halt.
"Is something wrong?" Dolores asked.
"No. I... I want to go back to your quarters, if we can. I want to speak more somewhere more warm and private."
"Of course." Dolores smiled.
They turned away from the great hall and made their way to the residential wing of the building.
They walked slowly, taking in the beautiful art that hung on the walls. Dolores couldn't concentrate, as the warmth of Fenella's skin and the smell of her perfume was distracting.
Finally, they came to a dark brown oak door, gilded around the edges. Dolores opened the door and gestured for Fenella to go inside first, following her in before shutting the door.
The room was decorated extravagantly. It was not her personal taste, but the French were known for their love of opulence. Fenella made her way around the room, her mouth agape at the furnishings, until she saw the bed and her jaw dropped.
It was a giant four poster bed, bedecked in black silk sheets and a deep red duvet. It was big enough for three at a time, which Dolores knew was how the nobles preferred it.
Fenella let out a childlike squeal of glee and ran to the window to look out at the view, making Dolores smile at the sight. She crossed the room at a more sedate pace, and slid her arm around Fenella's slim waist.
To her surprise, Fenella didn't move away, instead leaning back against her with a sigh that made Dolores shiver.
