Jackline hesitated at the threshold, her voice a tremor against the thick oak. "What are you planning?" Damaris didn't answer with words, only a conspiratorial wink before disappearing around the corner of the corridor. Now, as the evening shadows stretched long in her opulent chamber, Jackline sat on the edge of the large, soft bed, her cheeks still aflame with the memory of Damaris' endless, clandestine hints. One truth hammered in her chest, as heavy and resonant as a funeral bell: Damaris was gleefully, unequivocally corrupting her mind.
She rose, driven by a restless energy, and pressed her palms to the cool, unyielding stone of the window frame. Outside, the last of the day's birds swept through the dusky sky, unburdened by duty or expectation. How fiercely she envied their simple, savage freedom. No one dictated their flight path; they were free to soar or dive, unlike her, a queen ensnared by invisible chains and suffocating protocol. A sharp, physical pang of homesickness tightened her chest, a weight in her heart as she recalled her simple, quiet life before the crown had settled, heavy and cold, upon her head.
A sharp, demanding knock shattered her reverie, and the heavy door swung open to admit Damaris, a wide, triumphant grin planted on her face. Her brow immediately furrowed in mock concern. "Goodness, I leave you for a mere moment, and your mood sours that quickly?" she teased, sliding a hand to her hip and assessing her.
Jackline swallowed the knot in her throat. "So where's this 'surprise' of yours?" she asked, a sliver of genuine curiosity cutting through her apprehension. She wondered what could possibly have taken the woman so long.
The smile appeared again, wider now, predatory and bright. Damaris glided behind Jackline, her fingertips brushing lightly against her temples. "Close your eyes," she murmured, her voice a low purr against Jackline's ear. "Trust me." Jackline, against her better judgment, obeyed, a shiver chasing its way down her spine.
"What is…" Jackline began, but Damaris cut her short with a quick, playful tap to her lips.
"Shhh," she chided, a giggle escaping her. "Now, get in." She gently steered Jackline forward a few paces, then drew her hands away from her eyes.
Jackline blinked into the wavering torchlight, her breath catching in her throat. The sight before her was utterly shocking. Standing in a neat semi-circle were a small assembly of men and women, each cloaked only in robes of vibrant scarlet. A hushed silence hung in the air, thick with anticipation. Then, as if on an unspoken cue, one after the other, they peeled away the scarlet fabric. The robes pooled on the plush carpet to reveal their complete, unapologetic nudity.
Heat rushed to Jackline's face, a blaze of scarlet that rivaled the discarded silk. She whipped her eyes to Damaris, her expression a canvas of unasked questions and disbelief. What absolute madness was this?
"Who said being a queen had to be so terribly boring?" Damaris purred, a wicked glint in her eye. "You can have any of them you wish to keep you company."
"Damaris, I… I don't…" Jackline's voice trembled, her hands coming up to cover her flushed cheeks.
"I know you yearn for your husband's touch, but the king is consumed by matters of state. He is busy, always busy. These," she gestured with a graceful sweep of her hand, "are here to keep you company in his absence." She beckoned the group forward with a nod. "I selected only the finest. The very best in the realm."
Jackline swallowed hard, her mind reeling. She knew, of course, that royal courts had traditions of concubines and consorts for both kings and queens, but the thought of this spectacle, of them competing for her favor, made her skin crawl with a deep-seated revulsion.
A tall, powerful-looking man stepped out from the group, his ebony hair tied back at his nape with a simple leather thong. "I am Maximilian," he rumbled, his obsidian eyes burning with a practiced, carnal hunger. "Tall, strong, skilled. I am well-known for finishing my job, my queen. I promise I won't disappoint you." He offered her a slow, predatory smile that made her stomach turn.
Against her will, Jackline's gaze flicked downward, from his face to the hard, corded planes of his neck and chest—and she tore her eyes away, cheeks scorching even hotter.
Another figure emerged, this one lithe and sharp, with striking silver hair and piercing gray eyes. "My name is André," he announced, his voice smooth as silk. "I can move my hips like no other, my queen." He smirked, his confidence dripping from every arrogant word.
She recoiled internally. The mere idea of having these strangers compete to pleasure her was utterly absurd, a performance that disgusted her very core.
Then a woman, all curves and shadows, with midnight-black hair and dark amber eyes, stepped forward. Jackline's shock was naked on her face. "Why include her?" she hissed to Damaris in a low whisper, confusion overriding her revulsion. "Only men can give pleasure."
Damaris laughed softly, a low, knowing sound. "Oh, my sweet, naive Jackie. Women explore differently. More… thoroughly." Her eyes glinted with a thousand secrets. "You'll love it, I'm telling you from experience."
Jackline's pulse raced, a frantic bird trapped in her throat. "I don't want this," she breathed, the words barely a whisper. Damaris's excitement, however, only seemed to swell. "Nonsense! If you don't find this batch appealing, we'll simply find others!"
A sudden, heavy hush fell over the room as Damaris raised her hand for quiet. "It appears the queen doesn't find any of you attractive enough for her chambers."
A ripple went through the assembled companions. The practiced smiles they wore evaporated instantly, replaced by fleeting masks of genuine hurt and rejection.
"No, I didn't mean it like that—" Jackline tried to explain, her voice cracking with sudden panic as she saw the pain she'd unintentionally caused.
"Then choose one. Or two. Or as many as you wish, right now," Damaris's tone hardened, an edge of impatience creeping in.
Jackline's throat tightened, a sudden wave of nausea washing over her. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't. "I'm sorry, but I—" she started, turning back to Damaris.
The chamber door suddenly burst open with a crash that rattled the windowpanes, slamming against the stone wall. The air changed instantly, the easy, sensual atmosphere replaced by something cold and hard.
Jackline spun around, her heart vaulting into her throat. A pair of ice-blue eyes, as sharp and unforgiving as a winter storm, met her startled green ones from the doorway.