"You will be perfect for him." The noble man stepped in front of me, stopping our progress through the grand stone hallway. He was close enough that I could smell the pipeleaf on his breath as he pulled me to stand directly in front of a large, ornately-carved wooden door. I could feel his fingers moving on me, slipping across my clavicle and neck as his gaze traveled to my breasts, then back up to my face. "You do not need all of this," he murmured, and started plucking out the hair pins that held my hair up in a coiled braid. I was frozen stiff from fear and anticipation, not moving, as the pins clinked to the floor. My waves of hair now hung down, slightly wild and almost to my waist. I took this opportunity to hide my face from this tall, gold-clad man who had spirited me so far away from my home. I had been with anxiety since that morning, when I had been taken from a market near my village, but I still suspected I was not yet as scared as I should be.
I had caught eyes with this man by chance as I browsed the market stalls for wool to make a new frock. I had looked away, knowing not to associate myself with finely dressed strangers, but feeling well full of myself that a handsome noble man had found me nice on the eyes. I knew I was an uncommon beauty in my own small village, but surely this courtly gentleman would not think I was anything special. When I glanced again in his direction, he was still looking at me, with an intensity and purpose that unsettled me. I swiftly ended my small talk with the wool merchant and exited toward the meat market. In my peripheral vision I could see the noble moving toward me, his green and gold tabard in stark contrast to the brown homespun of the other marketgoers. I desperately cast my gaze to find someone I knew in the crowd to provide some measure of safety from what I was sure would be bawdy advances. Then I felt something cold and sharp prick the small of my back.
"Hail, pretty. You're going to walk with me now." A man's whiskers tickled my ear and a hard body was now pressed against my side. He must have been almost a foot taller than me. Rightly cowed, I had walked with him, silently through the market and up to his carriage. He kept the knife at my waist as motivation for good behavior.
Now, a day's ride away from the market, I could still feel the coldness of that knife. It was this reminder of barely contained violence that kept me standing there, silent and meek as the nobleman began to undress me in that cold hallway. He reached over my shoulders to the nape of my neck and skillfully undid the buttons he found there. I spoke my small protests into his chest as he continued his urgent task, my voice muffled by his closeness. All I could think was that I had never been this close to a man, and that we had never even been introduced. He smelled like sweat and cloves and fine linen. His busy fingers felt warm and calloused, and the way that they brushed at the small hairs on the back of my neck made a strange thrill go through my spine.
My best market-day dress fell unceremoniously to the stones, leaving me only in my chemise. To my horror I could feel the man's fingers working roughly at the lacing on my chemise, and I found myself dumbly cooperating as he lifted it off of my body. A small sob escaped my lips. I was cold, and dreaded what might wait for me behind the grand wooden door. My nipples were painfully erect, and I felt goosepimples travel down my legs. Was this the door to his rooms? Was I to be his mistress? Or would he ruin me and cast me aside? With one hand he combed his fingers through my long hair, while with the other he grabbed my chin to make me face him. I tried to comfort myself, telling myself at least he was not a bad-looking man. This noble was young, only a handful of years older than me, and was in possession of a well-cut jaw and light brown hair, tied neatly away from his face. He looked strongly built but not overfed, which I imagined was a rarity among nobles. His eyes were deep-set and green and seemed intent on consuming the whole of me. I sniffled, eyes welling up with anxious tears. I was standing in my all-together in front of a total stranger in a grand castle, far from anywhere I knew.
"Stop your weeping," he said, not unkindly, and lightly stroked the soft crescent of the top of my breast with his fingertips. Surprised, I shut my mouth quickly as his wandering fingers snaked behind my neck and firmly pulled my body to his. My whole view was taken up now by his green tunic as I felt his free hand moving against my front. I whimpered when I felt his large fingers slip between my labia and into a small pool of wetness there. His fingers lingered there, softly moving, and I felt a terrible pressure on my maidenhead before he gently released me. "You will meet him now. Be good and do exactly as you are told." Upon my hesitation he commanded, "Nod," eliciting a small nod from my person.
He swung the door open to reveal a well-lit room, as rich as the rest of the castle I had seen. It had a wall full of more books than I had seen in my life, and thick green curtains opened on tall windows. Instead of a bed, which I had expected, it had three tables, laid with papers, maps, books, and quills. A man sat, writing at one of these desks and looked up as we entered. "Sit," my keeper ordered, and walked over to clasp hands with this man.
"Your hunt was fruitful then, Gareth?" The man wiped ink from his fingers with a cloth finer than any cloth I had ever seen. Was it silk? He was tall and had dark curly hair, bound only with a fine silver circlet. I nearly choked on air upon realizing whose castle I had been taken to. The circlet indicated he was a Duke, and the falcon insignia he wore told me he was Lord Kanan, the only lord in the Kingdom currently in open rebellion against the King's rule. I was in terrible, terrible trouble. The man who had brought me there gestured to me in answer to his Lord's question, and soon both of their heavy gazes weighed on my naked body. Lord Kanan approached me with the confidence of a man used to owning everything in his sight. Slowly, deliberately he walked around my chair. His gaze traveled up and down my body, interested, but clearly not besotted. My cheeks flamed with terror and frustration. "She is cold, Gareth," The Lord pronounced, reaching out to flick at my erect nipples. A twinge traveled down deep into me and I squirmed on my chair, gooseflesh now covering the entirety of my arms.
"Sorry milord, I figured you would want to see all of her. She is a beauty, is she not?" My keeper, Gareth replied, showing the first smile I had seen on his face. It was self-satisfied and lustful. I quickly looked away, staring at my hands.
