Free Droit De Seigneur by Carolyn Faulkner Page A

occupy yourself, Sir Piers. And what an interesting occupation it is.” He smiled broadly. “Please introduce me.”
    When Piers drew her towards the King, his hand strong and steady on hers, his strength infused her, and she became more of herself and less the frightened maid, despite the ignominious circumstances.
    She met William with a deep curtsey, but squarely, not shrinking from him, proudly, as she should. Piers was very proud of her, knowing it was hard for her, especially considering the scene he’d stumbled upon.
    He drew her up with one hand, kissing the back of hers. “I had concern that there was a maid in distress, but I had no idea just how distressed. Tell me, Miss Amber, were you deserving of the punishment Sir Piers was administering?”
    Amber colored beautifully, and both men found themselves heartily admiring it.
    Piers’ heart was in his throat at her possible answer, but she surprised him, as he should have known she would. “By the letter of his law, yes, Your Majesty.” The King was pleased at her answer, nudging Piers in the ribs. “Ho, this one has a bit of the devil in her, does she not, Sir Piers? I’ll leave you to the beating then. It seems she’s in the need of one.”
    He left them laughing, which Amber thought, with a King, was probably a good thing.
    She had hoped, against hope, it seemed, that that would have been the end of her spanking, but Piers was too strict for that. After they heard His Majesty’s men all laugh – on her account, she was sure – and gallop away, he finished her off, quickly and quite viciously, sure that the sounds of their own horses’ hooves would drown out the sounds of her screams and his sword gracing her bottom.
    “When I tell you not to go into the woods, my flower, then you are not to go into the woods, until I lift that ban.” He rained down several last swats, but kept her in position, quite liking the natural bond her hair made when under his foot. “What did I just say?” How did he know how much she hated to repeat things back to anyone, like a child forced to recite lessons? She hesitated just a second too long, and got more for her trouble –
    more swats, more pain, and a much hoarser throat.
    “Amber?” he asked, when he stopped again.
    “Wh- when you say I’m n- not to go into the w- oods, I’m not t-to go into them un-until you lift the b-ban, Sir.”
    He let her up, but didn’t free her; instead he swooped her up in his arms and threw her up onto Tygan, kicking the horse into a gallop. “Tell me if you know a way to get us back to the castle before the King.”
    She wasn’t sure, but they just made it a few minutes before His Majesty, long enough for Piers to change into his best, and Amber to do her best to fade into the woodwork of the servants, keeping herself busy enough to forget what had just transpired between herself, the King, and Sir Piers.
    The King was met with all manner of ceremony. The villagers showered him with flowers and clapped and sang his praises, which fairly astounded him. They were the cause of his lateness to the castle. He could speak of little else when he first arrived, having been much less warmly received everywhere else he traveled. Piers knew he had Amber to thank for this, but he could hardly tell King William that, so he accepted the King’s accolades for himself.
    They closeted themselves away for the afternoon, going over the plans for the new castle and its fortifications. The King would travel to the site himself and inspect the construction while he was here, once he’d recovered from his trip. Tonight there would be a great feast that would last for several days; the castle smelled of the meats and pies and breads that were baking for the occasion, as well as the sweet smelling rushes and herbs that graced the floor.
    The feast began at dusk, with entertainments, jesters and musicians, and Sir Piers and the King sat at the high board, along with Bruce, and Fitzwilliam.
    William