Queen And Prince Together Forever 6

King William meets Emma and is taken by her beauty.

During better financial times, William met Emma twenty-three-years ago in the spring of 1462 when she was a twenty-year-old virgin. An anomaly, there weren't many virgins around, especially at that late age of 20-years-old. If not already spoiled by conquering men raping them and having their wicked, sexual way with them, women her age were already long married with children.

Seeing her for the first time from a distance while high up on his horse, he saw her peddling her wares in the street and, not wasting any time, he soon invited her to peddle what she had to sell within his castle instead of just behind his castle walls. As if it was meant to be, standing so still as if taken by him as he was taken by her, her eyes locked on his when everyone else was bowing their heads in submissive respect of their king riding through the street. Normally one so disrespectful to dare not bow his or her head would be met with a blow from the butt end of a lance from one of the king's men. Normally one so disrespectful to dare make eye contact with the king, even the self-professed king of this castle and small kingdom, would have their head removed from their shoulders by one of his quick to strike, short tempered men.

Big on honor, demanding respect from his subjects as much as he demanded respect, obedience, and loyalty from his men, a pet peeve of his, his temper was short on disrespect, disobedience, and disloyalty. Yet, flattered that someone as attractive as her would look at someone as old and decrepit as him, he was as happy as he was intrigued that he held her interest as well as her obvious curiosity. Perhaps had he not been the king, she would have not looked at him twice. Perhaps had he not been the king, he'd have little chance to get this virgin in his bed.

No doubt with this her the first time seeing her king, obviously by curiosity overruling her respect, she had no way of knowing how to behave while in his presence. They were just poor, simple peasants. Illiterate commoners and lowly peons, they worked hard for what little they had. As was the case with their imagined king, just simple folk, no amount of soap and water could wash away who they were beneath the dirt, the blood, the grime, the urine, and the stench of excrement. They were all just people trying to make do in a time of men who took what they wanted and women who gave their bodies for what they needed.

* * * * *

Afraid to venture out beyond the castle wall without the protection of the king's knights, some of King William's citizens have never left the safety and the security of the castle walls to explore the rest of the kingdom. Whether from four legged beasts, two legged animals, or from witches, warlocks, wizards, and sorcerers, it wasn't safe to walk through the enchanted forest unprotected. No one but for the enchanted, the witches, warlocks, wizards, and sorcerers dared lurk around in the darkness of night without a torch lighting their way and a sword to clear the brush. Yet, even a torch and a sword was no protection for what lay lurking in the dark.

From all the nearby castles he's conquered, his land holdings were vast in every direction. Yet, most of his citizens living within the boundaries of his kingdom have never been behind his castle walls and haven't seen the relative opulence where their king lived while they lived in abject poverty and absolute depravity. A bountiful land and a simple life, most of those residents who lived outside of the castle walls were content to grow, hunt, and fish whatever they needed to eat. Other than to pay the king a meager amount of tax for his protection, they didn't need money. The only part of his entourage that any of his citizenry routinely saw was the back end of the horses of his men or the backs of his men after they've passed by them.

Yet, today was different. Today a woman, a mere commoner in the way that no whore ever has, attracted the king's attention. As if she had a spotlight shining over her head, he noticed no one but for her. Never has he seen anyone as incredibly beautiful. Immediately captivated by her, King William felt as if he was a young man again instead of an old man at 35-years-old.

Wanting to show her his affection, he was interested in helping to lift her from her poverty and her plight by moving her inside his castle where he could protect her, watch over her, and take care of her. In addition to her being conveniently located where he could give her his undivided attention and hoped for sexual affection, he knew that she could make some money with his captive audience of Lords and Ladies in court who had money to spend but nowhere to spend it. With her best welfare and his best sexual interest mind, he continued forward.

As he slowly rode his horse closer, he wondered her name. As if playing a name game with himself as his horse slowly neared her, he tried to guess her name. Anabel, Beatrice, Christina, Elizabeth, Isabella, Johanna, Juliana, Margaret, Mary, or Sarah. Her natural beauty was indescribable and it was wrong for him to label her by a mere name. Yet, he was charmed enough by her to want to know her name. Except for those men who were part of his entourage, normally he didn't care to know the name of anyone living within his kingdom. Yet, she was somehow different and needing to know what to call her when he dreamt of her tonight, he had to know her name.

Imagining a love relationship with a woman possessing any of those aforementioned names, if only to foretell her beauty when mentioning her name to someone else, he knew her name had to be something more special than a common woman with a peasant's name. Compared to her uncommon beauty, those common names were too common for such a beautiful woman to have such a common name. For sure, in the way she looked, she was no commoner. Having never seen anyone who looked quite like her before, every name he thought of gave him the image of a woman who paled in comparison to her. Whatever her name is, he didn't want anyone to have her name. He hoped she had a name that he never heard before so that she'd be his one of a kind, shining star.

Being that she looked to be 18-years-old, a bit older, or a bit younger, he wondered if she was still a virgin. Something that would always nag at him, it would be difficult for him to accept a woman who's already laid with a man and has been spoiled by someone else. It's one thing to lay with a whore who's been with many men but it's quite another thing to think about making a woman who's not a virgin his queen, as he immediately thought of making her. Suspecting that she wasn't a virgin at her supposed age, whatever that age is, how could she still be a virgin in this modern day of men freely taking what they want?

He wondered if was married. Figuring that she was married, he wondered if she had children. Figuring she had children, he wondered how many children she had. Just because she's married with children doesn't mean that he still couldn't lay with her. Perhaps her man is dead and she's a widow. He just couldn't make her his queen.

He wondered if she was Catholic or Protestant. If she was Catholic, as he was, a minority in a country of Protestants, he wondered if his bishop would have the power to have her marriage annulled. Then there was the issue with her having children. As he promised to love her, he'd have to promise to love them too. Then there's the issue of her husband. He could either have him killed or give him a purse of gold coin and banish him to the countryside. Yet, already married to her, he didn't even know her name.

Discounting his foolish thoughts of her still being pure, surely someone as beautiful as she was would already be claimed by another man, a man that he'd personally have to fight and slay for him to win her heart. Surely the only way to purify her is to kill the man who spoiled her before he found her standing in his street selling his wares. Admittedly not knowing everyone in his kingdom, he still wondered why he's never seen her before. Admittedly not wanting to know everyone in his kingdom, he wondered her name.

Only in the regard of her purity, he was lucky, as he was soon to discover, that her father was a possessively protective man of his daughter. After her mother was taken and murdered by marauders and intruders, while he was at the tavern drinking and getting drunk, swearing himself off of mead and wine, he was a man who'd never let his daughter out of his sight. Yet, maybe her father was possessively protective of her because he's already slept with his daughter, the cad. Typically acceptable in this age for a daughter to take the role of a mother and wife when the mother dies, in this case, her father would rather she remain pure than to bed his own flesh and blood.

Protecting her from harm, in an act of obvious suicide with the king surrounded by armed guards, he was at the ready to draw his sword against any man, even his king in defense of his daughter. Where he could keep a watchful eye on her, her father allowed her to set up shop with a small cart in front of his store where she sold, traded, and bartered goods that he imported and collected from foreign countries and passing wagons. Always in his line of sight and never leaving her alone for a more than a minute, he watched over her in the way that he should have never left his wife alone when he abandoned her to drink. His wife, one of a kind and just as beautiful as his daughter, was the love of his life.

Now a devoted father in the way that he should have been a devoted husband, he didn't want to make the same mistakes he made in the past with his wife with his daughter. Yet, not so possessively protective of a man that it skewed his business judgment, he wasn't a stupid man. Figuring that her good looks would draw the attention of those wanting to shop in his store, as if she was his teasing advertisement to entice customers to enter his shop, she sold a small sampling of the same goods outside as he sold inside. He always knew that one day, her Prince Charming would happen along. Until that day, he protected her from harm.

* * * * *

Normally when King William sees a woman he desires, as any man did back in that day, especially when thinking about using her as his whore, as if buying something from the market, he just has one of his men scoop her up and take her. Unable to control his lust and harness his sexual passion for her or for any woman who looked not nearly as good as she obviously did, normally when King William sees a woman that makes his manhood happy, he takes her, ruins her, and spoils her for other men. Too busy conquering castles for a wife, he's had plenty of women in his bed and has fathered many bastards. Yet, now that he's older, he's looking for a wife to give him an uncontested heir to his throne rather than a whore. A good wife is a woman hard to find while whores are seemingly everywhere.

In the way that this woman maintained his interest and mesmerized him for him to continue his uninterrupted focus of her, from top to bottom and from back to front, he'd love to fill her every need as well as every one of her holes. Providing for her and for her family by giving her gold, he imagined spoiling her with expensive jewels and pretty clothes. Only, based upon his limited perception of her, this woman was different from any other woman he's ever seen. One of a kind, even from a distance and while high up on his horse, he could clearly tell that she was special. One of a kind, perhaps she's not influenced by mere money as all the other whores who've shared his bed were. One of a kind, perhaps she runs deeper than that.

Just as he wanted goodness and kindness in a woman, along with great beauty, perhaps she wanted more gentle and agreeable qualities in a man too. If she wasn't already married, ripe at that age for the picking, perhaps she was looking for a husband. If she didn't already have children, perhaps she wanted a child or two or three of her own. He imagined her giving him sons, three tall, strong, handsome sons that he could marry to the daughters from another kingdom to increase his wealth, his power, and his influence.

Without even knowing her, without having even talked to her, and without even knowing her name, for some inexplicable reason, he wanted to do the right thing by her. He wanted to treat her better than any other woman he treated before. Rather than treat her with contempt as he would any whore, as if she was his imagined equal, he wanted to treat her with civility and kindness.

Already placing her high up on his pedestal, he imagined her being his queen. Judging her only by her good looks, her long, auburn hair, her beautiful face, her tall, slim, shapely figure, and her obvious abundant breasts hidden beneath her soiled clothes, his unpolished diamond in the rough, this woman was indeed special. Without even knowing her or her name, this woman was worthy of a king, even this self-professed king, who was Lord of his lands, Lord of his castle, and Lord of his kingdom.

As if he already knew her, as if he already lived a prior life with her before as his queen, he felt as if he recognized her from another time and another place. Undoubtedly and without further ado, she was the type of woman who he'd want to intimately know. Already so taken with her, she was the type of woman that he'd want to marry. She's the type of women who he'd want to birth his children.

Only with him a firm believer in love, in kismet, and with all things left in the hands of the Gods above, it was love at first sight that attracted and attached his interest in her. Yet, now instead of God controlling his destiny, he wondered what hand the Devil played in him meeting and falling in love at first sight with her. Maybe instead of love at first sight, this was nothing more than a charmed occasion and a demonic spell.

As if he had already seen her naked, unable to stop himself from staring and from undressing her with his eyes, he imagined her without her clothes. He imagined her naked. As if he had already taken her in his strong arms to kiss her, he imagined her soft, sweet, full lips pressed against his lips. As if he had already made love to her, with her oozing sexuality, it was easy for him to imagine having sex with her.

If he closed his eyes to allow his imagination to color him an image, he could almost hear her making sexually excited sounds of ecstasy whenever they made love. After being bored and sickened by a slew of unkempt, unclean, immoral, immodest, witless, illiterate, and inarticulate women, who loved his money more than they loved him, he was tired of the long line of filthy, disgusting, and stupid whores who slept in his bed. She was a woman he'd be willing to bath and change his clothes for her. She was a woman who'd make him remain faithful to her.

* * * * *

Only because he was their king, he was tired of the endless procession of people who wished him well, hoped for him to have continued good health, and who laughed at his stupid jokes all while laughing at him behind his back. How dare they treat him with insincerity and contempt? How dare they eat his food and drink his wine while laughing at him and plotting behind his back?

A king, albeit not a real king but a king just in name and not in blood, marrying a commoner was risky when he'd be better suited to trade his allegiance to another castled kingdom by marrying one of the available daughters of another self-professed king. If not a king, surely if he was anyone, he was a Lord but without an official title bestowed upon him by the real King of England. Nonetheless, even if he bestowed the title of Lord upon himself, he was Lord of his Castle, Lord of his lands, and Lord of his kingdom, which is more than he could say for most men during that age of minimal enlightenment, position, and wealth.

Unless they had the real king's ear, the King of England's loyalty and friendship, to be bestowed a title worthy of the man, unfortunately, he didn't have the honor of such respect from England's royalty. Far away on the outskirts of England's kingdom, not even knowing his name, they didn't even know he existed. They didn't even know who he was and truth be told, he'd rather keep it that way. Reigning in anonymity in hopes of keeping his neck off the chopping block was better than being known to the real king. As his way to not only enrich himself but also to protect himself, he was just a bravely courageous man with insightful intelligence and a burning ambition to conquer and control the little kingdoms of those who lived around him.

Loyal to a fault to whomever the king may be, he's never met the new king nor has he met any real king before. If he met a real king, he'd be bowing down to him as his citizens bowed their head down to him. Out here in the wilderness, with only the strong surviving, it was all about survival. Out here where there was no one to enforce the laws, whomever had the most men, the most horses, and the most swords had the power and the respect of the people to uphold whatever laws they commanded that his subjects obey. Out here in the wilderness, unless possessing an army, which he did, it was every man for himself with the strongest prevailing and the weakest perishing. Yet, just as he knew that he could trust no man, no man could trust him.

With no disrespect to the real King of England, he wasn't claiming to be the King of England, just the king of his castle, the king of his lands, and the king of his little kingdom that lay over the hill and tucked down low in the valley. So long as he paid his taxes to the tax collector, what harm was there in him calling himself a king when there was no one from the Commonwealth of England checking on what he does and doesn't do?

As far as most of the people who lived behind his castle walls, indeed, with them not knowing of any other king, he was their king. With him sitting on a throne, wearing a crown, and holding a scepter, most obeyed him as if he was the real king of England as declared by the Gods. With him living far enough out on the outskirts of the countryside, there were dozens of castles and little kingdoms just like his dotting the landscape while protecting and safeguarding the inhabitants of the countryside from thieves, marauders, and murders. He was no better or any less than any of those other landowners who hid behind their castle walls and who ruled their subjects and those who took refuge within their kingdom with an iron fist.

* * * * *

"You," said the king pointing to one of his many aides. "What's your name?"

"Miles, Sire," said the king's aide.

"Do you know that woman?" Without pointing to her, the king nodded his head in her direction.

"That's the shopkeeper's daughter," said the aide.

"Do you know her name? Tell me, what's her name?"

"I don't know her name Sire," said his aide obviously fearing a blow to his head and cowering while taking a step back from the king's hand.

"Go tell the shopkeeper that I want to buy whatever he's selling," said the king obviously referring to the shopkeeper's daughter more than he was to his wares.

"Yes Sire," said his aide.

"Wait."

"Sire?"

"Tell him that I have a proposal, no don't say proposal. He may be offended by the word proposal in context to his daughter. Without you alluding to his daughter, tell him that I have a business opportunity for him. Yes, that's better. Tell him that I have a business opportunity for him to earn some gold. Go," said the king.

"Alluding to Sire?"

His aide seemed perplexed by the definition of the word.

"Referring to you fool," said the king with impatience. "Now go with haste and tell the shopkeeper what I told you to say."

"Yes Sire, of course Sire," said his aide.