The Warrior and the Petulant Princess (16 page)

“On to your knees in front of me,” he said sternly.

She was as desperate to hold her searing seat cheeks as she was to rub her painful breasts, and choosing the latter she slipped off his thighs and knelt before him.

“Hands at your sides,” he said firmly. “Now tell me, what you have to say for yourself?”

“Sir, I am so sorry for questioning you at such a critical time. I am a foolish, selfish girl and should never have suggested your warriors fight so I wouldn’t have to hide. It was wrong of me, very wrong. All I can do is pray that you’ll forgive me.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, Sir, thank you for punishing me. I needed it, and I wanted it.”

“Good,” he sighed. “You may crawl into my lap and be comforted, but the third part of your punishment awaits.”

Crawling back into his lap she curled into a ball as he held her. With gentle caresses he helped alleviate the pain in her breasts, then kissing her softly he murmured in her ear.

“I love you, Lizbett, I only punish you because I love you.”

“I know, Sir,” she sighed.

“Can you feel the carriage ride is smoother?”

“I didn’t notice, Sir, but yes, I feel it is.”

“We are out of the barren land. It won’t be long before we reach my uncle’s house. Is your dress in the bag in the compartment at the back of the carriage?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I believe we are both thirsty. I shall have us stop for a moment and fetch it for you, along with some water. Cover yourself with your shawl.”

Moving from his lap she retrieved the wide scarf from the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders, and once she was settled he lifted the shades from the windows. The landscape was once again lush and full; the barren land was behind them.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A
s the carriage rolled down a lane between tall trees, in spite of her sore bottom and aching breasts, Lizbett was full of wonder. Beauty surrounded her, and the animals she could see prancing around the fields beyond the trees made her want to jump from the carriage so she could run and join them. As they approached the stable yard she could hear Scarlet whinnying, and she broke into a smile.

“Scarlet wants to make new friends.”

“And she shall, as will you,” Larian said warmly.

The carriage rolled to a stop and Lizbett waited for Larian to climb out, then taking his hand she stepped daintily on to the soft dirt; she was arriving as Princess Lizbett of Verdana, and she wanted to impress his uncle.

Looking around she saw a splendid barn, horses fenced in oversized pens giving them plenty of room to wander and graze, and several young men were bustling around doing their chores. Scarlet was still whinnying, and Lizbett moved quickly to the back of the carriage to check on her. When the mare spied her she let out a snort and began pawing at the ground.

“She is still impatient, even after that long journey,” Larian remarked. “I will take her to a field next to other horses. She can play at the fence but it’s better she’s by herself. She could start a fight with her excited mood.”

“Scarlet just likes to let me know how she feels,” Lizbett protested.

“Scarlet is as spoiled as her owner,” Larian whispered, and untying the lead rope he briskly walked the horse across the yard to a small empty field. Lizbett hurried to keep up, but her soft shoes were made only to look pretty and grace a planked dance floor, not to walk in dirt.

“Your uncle won’t mind?” she asked reaching the gate just as Larian let the mare loose.

“This field is for guest horses, he won’t mind a bit.”

“Of course I won’t mind.”

The voice was old and husky, and turning around Lizbett saw an elderly man striding towards them. Though his age showed in his face, his body was straight and tall, his shoulders square, and she could see how he was once a warrior, just like her beloved Larian.

“How is my favorite nephew?” he beamed. “My Warrior Of The First Order, my Commander. I’m so proud of you. Any trouble on the way?”

“I have much news, Uncle,” Larian said gravely, “news that must be shared over food and wine, but first, please meet Princess Lizbett of Verdana, the woman I am to marry.”

“Ahhh, so happy is this news. It is lovely to meet you, Princess. I am acquainted with your father. We once shared some hazardous times. He is an exceptional man, and an exceptional leader. I believe I did meet you once, when you were just a little girl.”

“It is lovely to meet you too, Uncle…?

“Just Uncle,” he smiled, “everyone calls me Uncle. I don’t even remember what my name is anymore,” he chuckled. “Come into the house, I am eager to hear about this news, Larian. Your men will be fed and housed in the warrior’s quarters, but of course you know that,” then slapping him on the back he added, “Larian, my boy, I am just so pleased you’re here.”

“I am too, Uncle, it has been too long and we have much to discuss,” Larian replied. “Perhaps Lizbett should go straight to her chamber so she can freshen up and get some rest.”

“Ah, yes, women should do this after a long journey,” he nodded. “They need to lay down, they need to gather themselves.”

Lizbett was about to protest, to say she was fine, she didn’t need to go anywhere and she wanted to stay with them, but before she could utter a word Larian shot her a look and the message in his aqua eyes was clear;

I want to be alone with my uncle for a while, go to your room and stay there until I call for you.

Swallowing back her argument, she graciously said,

“Thank you, Uncle, for understanding the needs of a woman.”

Looking at Larian she was rewarded with a smile that made her heart swell; she had pleased him, and after everything that had happened in the carriage she wanted to please him more than anything.

They had reached the house, a sprawling one-story building that had many windows and a large covered patio. As they walked inside Lizbett found herself in a reception area, and was astonished at the many artifacts surrounding her, but before she had time to ask about them a small woman hurried forward and curtsied.

“This is Adamine,” Uncle said. “She will take care of you during your night here. Adamine, this is Princess Lizbett from Verdana, please show her to the guest room overlooking the back fields.”

“Larian, will someone bring up my bag?” Lizbett asked softly.

“Of course, it will be delivered to your room shortly,” he promised.

Adamine curtsied again, then without a word began to walk towards one of three hallways that led in different directions; realizing she was expected to follow Lizbett hurried after her.

“Lizbett is charming,” his Uncle remarked quietly.

“Thank you, Uncle. May I ask, is there a tray of food in her room? She’ll be starving.”

“Oh, yes, an excellent meal is waiting,” his Uncle assured him, “and no doubt she’ll want to rest after eating.”

“She will that,” Larian sighed, “and thank goodness, I need a break. She’s such a handful, literally. Sometimes she is as smart as her father, but other times…”

“But you have been taught how to handle women, especially those who have been raised as she has. Just keep her on a regular schedule of discipline and she’ll be fine.”

“Is her willful character so obvious?” Larian asked, surprised his Uncle had seen it in spite of Lizbett’s good behavior when they’d arrived.

“No, but I saw her as a child. She was a terror, absolutely out of control, and from what I’ve heard nothing has changed.”

“You’re right, Uncle, nothing has changed. I have had to spank several times already.”

“Like I said, make it regular, on a schedule.. Start every day with her over your lap, or at night before sleep. As her disposition improves you can make it once a week, but it has to be regular.”

“Thank you, Uncle, I’ll take your advice. I hadn’t thought of that but yes, I think that would be a very good idea.”

“Now, to the dining hall. I want to hear the news.”

As the two men made their way down a long corridor, Lizbett was standing in her bed-chamber staring at the reflection of her very red backside.

Her bag had arrived moments after Adamine had shown her into the room. Though the small woman wanted to stay and help her change, or brush her long hair, Lizbett had dismissed her saying she needed to rest, but what she really wanted to do was look at her sore backside.

The reflecting glass showed her just how determined her warrior had been to exact his discipline. Crimson and dark purple blotches stained her cheeks, and when she turned around and lowered the front of her dress, she sighed when she stared at the redness surrounding her rosebud nipples.

“What will the third part of his discipline be?” she mumbled. “He’d said he was going to punish my nugget. What could he possibly mean?”

Moving into the ante-chamber she brushed her hair and washed up, then returning to the room she noticed a tray of food on a table in a far corner. She was famished, and though she was unsure if she would be dining with the men some time later, she sat down and began to eat.

It was a delicious feast, complete with wine, and when she was finished she wandered to the bed and laid down. It was supremely comfortable, the mattress soft and engulfing, and as a wave of fatigue washed over her she yawned several times then immediately fell asleep.

Sharing a meal with his uncle in the dining hall, Larian knew she’d be exhausted. Between the long journey, the lack of good food, the experience with the marauders, and his strong discipline, he’d had no doubt she’d fall asleep as soon as she stretched out to rest.

He and his uncle remained in the dining hall, talking until the two moons hung low in the dark sky, discussing family news as well as the events in Verdana.

“I am an old man, and even with Zinyana I now need sleep every night,” his uncle sighed.

“Is it time for you to take to your bed?” Larian asked.

“I must, but before I retire, tell me, when and where do you plan to marry?”

“I will marry the Princess when I feel she is ready to be my wife, when her training is sufficient and she is deserving.”

“Ha!”

Larian stared back at him, shocked at the scoffing retort.

“Uncle? I don’t understand?”

“If that is your plan you will be waiting for many passages of the moon, and that will be too long…for both of you. A woman such as the Princess…her training will never stop. Her core is willful and rebellious. You need to marry her quickly, take her, own her, possess her, then you will be in a much more powerful position, then your training will have more substance.”

Larian stared into his uncle’s wise turquoise eyes and realized he was right; his own lack of insight was embarrassing, almost humiliating.

“Uncle, I feel so…”

“Uneducated? Inadequate? Immature?”

“All of those things. I feel as if you’re my teacher, as if I’m back in training.”

“You are. What you just told me obligates me to speak to you as a teacher. You have become a Commander, and your skills are exceptional, but you are still young. As a warrior you have had many women, you have had education in the ways of loving domination, the kind of domination that brings a happy marriage, but you have no practical experience with a woman for whom you care deeply. It was impossible. Your heart has belonged to Lizbett since you met her as a child.”

“I wasn’t a child,” Larian declared.

“In the ways of men and women you were both children,” his uncle frowned, “but that is not what we are discussing. Listen to me, pay attention.”

“Yes, Uncle, I’m listening, and I apologize for my momentary lapse,” Larian said quietly, then dropped his eyes as a mark of respect.

“You have already taught Lizbett about discipline, and you have the training and instincts to apply it properly, but you are just beginning to learn about such a woman. She is not just petulant, she is wily, and she will soon learn your ways…if she hasn’t already. Believe me, Larian, there will come a day she will use that against you.”

“But she loves me,” Larian argued. “Why would she use anything against me?”

“It is her love that will cause her to. She wants to know you are smarter, wiser, and will catch her out. This is the danger. Listen again. She is not just petulant, she is wily, and will soon learn your ways…if she hasn’t already.”

“So I must be on guard.”

“Yes, you must be on guard.”

“When you say, against me…”

“I mean, she will use her knowledge to get what she wants, but all the while you will be thinking you are in control.”

“Oh, almost like strategy in battle. Maneuvering your opponent.”

“Yes, Larian, just like that,” his uncle nodded. “When you start to question yourself, that will be your warning. Then you must step away, take some time…one passage of the moons, or several…as long as it takes for you to look back and see the devious manipulation. Then you can return and show her she has not bettered you.”

“Uncle, I hear the wisdom of your words.”

“The punishments are necessary, and they will control her, but only to a point. True control comes from within her, from her love and wishing to please you, but that will only come from her respect for you.”

“Yes, Uncle, I understand, I understand completely.”

“This is why you must marry her soon. You do not doubt your devotion to each other, so why wait? You have chosen her. I repeat, you must take her, you must possess her with your body, then you will have the power to train her, properly train her.”

“Ah, yes, I see,” Larian nodded.

“I assume you must marry in Verdana.”

“If things were settled, then yes, but a wedding, the celebrations, I’m not sure the King will feel it would be safe there, at least, not yet.”

“Then, in Zanderone?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps at my new residence. Security would be much easier there, no crowds, just invited guests.”

“This is better, to be married in the home where you can start your days together, away from the courts of your Prince and her father. This is the best path, Larian, if you can get blessings from both.”

“Uncle, I am indebted to you, thank you.”