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Chapter Seven: Why Stop at a Kiss?

Carnen waited outside Charlotte’s door for the maids to finish dressing her, with his finger tapping out a manic, non-stop rhythm upon his forearm. Who was she to command him out? He should go right back in there and watch her strip. The creed of his people was to take what they wanted, and that is what he seriously, most desperately wanted in this moment. It’s what his father would have done, walked right in there and run his hands over her body…

He had shown her proudly that her pathetic shove the other day had left no bruises on his skin. Even though he had found two hand sized straight black bruises there the other night, but his people had an herbal cream that quickly covered up such marks and encouraged healing. He made use of that often, and the cuts where his father’s belt had cut into flesh were assumed by all to be scars of war. Carnen had only participated in a single battle of course, taking this very city, and he had suffered no wounds on that field, but some of his scars were from training with the sword, and of those he was proud. In those, Charlotte showed obvious interest, giving that pretty blush and scanning over them with clear craving in her eyes.

She would be begging his indulgence this very night. He was sure of it. She would invite him into bed and...

The door was clicking open and he was jumping to attention like some besotted schoolboy, but it was only Genevieve, not Charlotte. Wait, why was Genevieve rushing out here on her own long before Charlotte could be ready?

She could see already the questioning in his gaze, and she ruefully explained, “She sent me out, my prince. I may have given some improper implication about our activities last night. I know you told me to keep it secret, but then there was the winking and the clear look you gave me, so I thought… I apologize,” she repeated.

“You owe no apology. Was she jealous?”

“No, she was horribly judgmental.” Genevieve pouted, stroking his arm. “I fear she has a frightfully low opinion of you, my prince, but I can keep you company, even once you are wed--”

“Not here.” He moved her hand, but she kept pressing up against him.

“Tonight though? You wouldn’t even have to pay. I mean it. You’ve given me a respectable job, and I intend to keep it like that, be a one man type of girl. Doesn’t that warm your heart? Come on, a couple of kisses was surely not enough for you, love.”

Her lips were already hovering right over his own, but he held up his finger, forestalling her. She had been his first kiss just this past evening, and she was certainly pretty, but a kiss was as far as he was willing to go with her. “I am getting married, and I intend to be a one woman type of man. Is that understood, love?” he echoed her, and her eyes darkened.

“Was I truly just practice to you then?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes flared, voice cracking with desperation. “You did not enjoy it at all?”

“You give very enjoyable company. It’s just not right for me, Gen.”

“Then curse you! You are just like your father!” She stormed off, but that claim was precisely the problem of course. Genevieve had been his father’s favored courtesan, gifted to him with the tribute of one of the tiny city states they had sailed past on the northern continent. Yuri liked her so much he took her along with them that entire voyage. He forbade their men to even look at her, and he took her along right into the capital as they stormed the place and took the keep.

Then Yuri saw Clara. Genevieve was dismissed as plain and kicked out of the palace that very first day. Carnen knew she was still hanging around the upper city though, hoping for a glimpse of Yuri and a chance to change his mind. Carnen tracked her down in secret last night and offered her a job. “You want company. Of course,” she’d said. “The price is steep these days, but I know a prince can afford it. Let’s see if you’re as good as your father--”

“Stop that,” he silenced her. “I never pay, and this is not your usual work. I am making you a lady in waiting in the palace. The wages are quite good. Does this interest you?”

“Fine, yes,” she caved. She could not find a single paying customer in recent days as Carnen had heard, because Yuri Gristhm had actually branded her chest and spread word that no man was allowed to touch this woman, else he would kill them. He had never actually revoked that order, so Genevieve could never find work again. “But surely your father would not resent his own son for taking a companion? Not while he has a fresh pet to occupy his nights.”

Carnen had been thinking of that. He was thinking of it quite seriously, because he could not afford to humiliate himself in front of Charlotte on their wedding night. Trained courtesan Genevieve was extremely skilled, and she could teach him exactly what to do, but looking at her now, those desperate eyes and hungry hands already picking at his tunic, all he felt was aversion. This was his father’s sloppy leftovers, and he would not stoop to that level.

Hell, his father may even kill him should he try it. He was not a reasonable man. “My father holds your contract for all such activities,” he reminded her. “I apologize that he has overlooked your release, but no, he did not gift you to me. I simply seek to find you work so you will not die destitute out on these streets.”

“Oh I see. The great prince is too frightened of daddy to dare kiss me.”

How dare she. Of course he was not afraid, and he kissed her most soundly to prove it. Then she tried to escalate things further, and he lost his nerve and broke away. “I am not a paying client,” he reminded her harshly.

“I know. You are so much better than that, so much better than your father.”

“Really? I mean… I’m the best kisser you’ve ever met.” He tried to phrase it like an assertion, and she gave an eager nod.

“Certainly. Though you could maybe try…” She gave most excellent instruction.

He stayed kissing her for hours. They lay down on the bed when their legs became too tired, and things did start to escalate. Then some shouting stranger battered down the door, one of Genevieve’s clients whom she’d had appointment to meet with tonight. She was still finding income. Carnen threatened away that disgruntled fifty year old and gave back the deposit this man had already given to reserve his spot with “Lady Rouge” as he referred to Gen.

Genevieve of course was rather frightened that word of her newfound livelihood might spread back to his father, but Carnen insisted he would keep her secret. “But it is truly that easy for you to find clients? Even with the brand?”

“Well they’re not appealing clients, as you’ve seen. I much prefer kissing you,” she’d insisted, with hands already fingering his shirt. “And I would love a real, respectable job in the palace. Truly!”

Carnen caved and hired her, but he didn’t let her kiss him again. They set out immediately for the castle, and by the time he smuggled her into the servant’s quarters the sky was already lightening, so he told her to clean up and put on a proper uniform while he washed himself and treated the bruises on his chest. He told Arianna to show Gen the ropes and walk her through all of her expected duties tending to Charlotte. The courtesan was proving to be a terrible lady in waiting though, walking out on her duties within the first hour.

All thoughts of Genevieve vanished from his mind of course the second Charlotte emerged. Outlined by sunlight in the doorway, she was all the more radiant, and the way that dress highlighted her hips and waist and chest... He should never have wasted his time kissing anyone else. He should have been showing this angelic creature what a natural kisser he was. Those lush pink lips of hers… “Took your time,” he greeted her coldly, jerking his eyes back up to her own. That was not any better of course. He wanted to sink right into those beautiful brown pools. “Arianna has at least managed to make you presentable, so come along now. My father is expecting us in the dining hall for brunch.”

“Your father?” There was the fear in her eyes. That should be encouraged, yet he preferred her wicked smile.

“Of course. He is the lord of this castle. He wants a look at my bride before the ceremony. Did you expect anything different? Queen Clara will surely also be in attendance, and they are both of them waiting, so pick up the pace.”

He took her arm and she allowed him that, knowing they were expected to walk in together that way. That flesh really was so very firm, slender as it was. He wanted to closer explore her and search out other muscles. Still, she would surely refer to that as groping, and it may very well devolve into groping… That was how man and wife were meant to interact though, he reminded himself. He was not becoming obsessed with this girl, he was simply appreciating her assets. He was maybe also a bit delirious from lack of sleep, but he could make it through the morning at least. He would keep his head enough to face his father and present his bride as a conquest, his conquest, not a burden to be taken.

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