“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t let you do this to us .”
The duchess is dead and her entire party is sprawled across the ballroom floor, bodies cut in half, drained of blood. But how did we exactly get to this point?
You see, I just wanted to be friends, good friends at that. The Duchess and I met at Blooms Pond, a small stream surrounded by heavy vegetation and garden animals. I, fifteen and grieving the loss of my father, would visit the stream as a way to release my own woes into nature. One day, the Duchess stumbled across me attempting to take my own pain away and stopped me. She, being a royal and all, was such a gorgeous sight. She was the symbol of elegance and excellence, she walked in her own power and I felt like less of a human being when I was in her presence.
“Duchess Freya, I’m sorry you must see me this way,” I pull myself from her grasp and attempt to treat my self-inflicted wounds. She fixes her ruffled hair and hands me a napkin.
“What’s your name?”
From that moment onto her death, she took me under her wing as her own. Maybe, deep down, I always had an idea of my plan to murder the Duchess and the entire court. She was able to get me access to the palace and I would spend all of my time with her.
During one of her baths, I was sitting on a stool near her as her maid washed her hair. Out of nowhere, She feels a sharp stab in her tooth, makes a high-pitch yelp as she grabs her chin. The maid and I rushed to her aid. The maid was new and was bewildered on what to do, so she decided to go find someone more reliable. I advise the Duchess to move her hand and I glide my hand softly and slowly against her chin, occasionally pressing the area until she notifies me that I found the tooth.
“Does this hurt?” I ask as I begin to stroll my finger across her back teeth. She doesn’t tell me, so I look up. Her mouth is wide open, with my thumb at the back of it. She is still and making direct eye contact with me. Saliva starts to pool in her mouth, so she slowly closes her mouth, with my thumb still in place, and swallows. The tension is building and she uses both hands to pull my thumb out of her mouth, sliding it against her tongue before meeting her front teeth. She doesn’t break eye contact and puts my hand on the rim of the bathtub. Eye contact is finally broken and the tension leaves as her maid and a senior maid enters the bathroom.
“My lady,” the senior maid starts as she palms the Duchess’ face and pulls it towards her. “Are you hurting? What is this I hear about a pain in your tooth?”
“I am fine, Jewela. Paris helped me.” The senior maid looks at me and looks away to brush me off.
“Let’s get you out of this tub. Paris, I think it is time for you to leave.”
After that moment in the tub, the tension continued to build and we would spend even more time together. The Duchess would allow me to try on her dresses and gowns, but would be persistent that she zip up and take off my dress for me. She would always trail her finger tips slowly down my spine while zipping and it would cause my heart rate to quicken and chills to drive through my body.
“You look stunning,” The Duchess comments as I admire myself in the light blue satin nightgown. I watched as her eyes trailed me, from my tan neck to my petite breast to my sleeky thighs poking out from the bottom of the nightgown.
“What are you looking at?” Her eyes pop up from my thighs to make eye contact with me from the mirror. I smirk and turn around to face her. “You like what you see?” I tease as I walk toward her royal vanity to begin taking off my facial enhancements. I can feel her eyes on me, even as I walk away from her. I hear her make a light chuckle and she strolls to the bed next to the vanity I’m sitting at and sits at the edge of the bed.
` “Can I ask you a question?” The Duchess begins.
“Yes, you know you can.” For some reason, facial enhancements were difficult to take off this day and I decided to use another removal that the duchess owns.
“Have you ever had sex?” I stop moving and a weird feeling starts to form in my stomach. I never had this feeling before. “I know we have to save ourselves for marriage, but isn’t there a way to prepare for it?”
“What are you trying to suggest to me?”
“Can we?” She begins to play with her fingernails and stumble on her words. “Can we practice with each other? Teach each other?” The feelings worsens. What is going on with me? I felt this feeling with her before, but now it has intensified. I feel like I am going to throw up. I don’t know what to do, so I oblige.