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horses in the
stables, stamping their feet and neighing at the flies that were
undoubtedly causing them grief.
"Princess, while it is my duty to serve His
Highness and his kin, I cannot lead you to believe that your
request is more than a dream. It is beyond me, truly."
"And for what reason is that?" Guinevere
snapped impatiently.
"Come to this window, Your Highness. There is
no one out to see us," he added when he saw the pause on her face.
She pushed her chair back and joined him at the window, the long
trail of her dress threatening to send her to the floor.
"Horses? You called on me to look at horses?
My dear Warlock, though you may not be aware of my affairs, I am
well acquainted with the stables." she scoffed, throwing back her
luxurious black hair over her shoulders.
"No, Princess. I did not call you over for
the view of the stables. Rather, look beyond them. What stands
behind the King's Forest?"
She studied the large, purple mountains and
shuddered. Though she had spent many days in the forest, even she,
the impetuous "first son," knew better than to approach those
imperial structures.
"The Mountains of Hellspring," she said,
quietly. The rumors and legends about the godforsaken Mountains of
Hellspring were vast. There were stories about unspeakably large
and grotesque creatures, of spirits and haunts that could steal
your soul just by looking at you.
"Precisely," Cameron nodded. "Princess, in
order to do magic this strong I would require a certain gem that
has been stolen from the Kingdom many years ago. It is the Stone of
Aspen. But the unspeakable guards it. The Dragon Mortagon."
"Doesn't he dwell at the base of the
mountain?" Guinevere asked, her eyes still trained on the goliath
roll of mountains. "One would not have to go through the mountains
themselves."
"This is true. But no soul has ever returned
from Mortagon's lair. I cannot do that for you Princess, even if
you threaten my life. I will die either way, and your way, though
it involves disgrace would not be nearly as painful.
She raised her eyes from the window to meet
the face of the tall warlock. "Then I'll do it. I'll retrieve the
stone. I have nothing without it," she said harshly.
"Princess," he said lowly, lowering his head
slightly. Guinevere caught a whiff of the Warlock's scent, a mix of
sage and lager, and she felt her knees go weak. "I cannot permit
this. This is not a task for the most skilled warrior, much less a
Princess. I will be forced to tell His Majesty and send the royal
guards after you."
"And what if I promised you something well
worth your silence?"
"Princess, this is your life..."
"I will kill myself. I will drink hemlock if
you send the guards after me," she said quickly, her gentle face
hardening. "But if I succeed, if you help me and equip me with your
magic..."
"Then what, Princess?" Cameron looked worried
and haggard. His brows dropped in concern. He brought a hand to his
head and rubbed his temple.
"Then we can act on my secret passion," she
whispered, bringing a hand up to his neck. A jolt of nerves shot
through her body, and she had never believed that she would
actually be so bold. But she knew the way men looked at her when
she dressed like a Princess. Try as they might to hide it, She knew
her power.
"Princess..."
"Just once." Guinevere pulled his neck down
so that his lips came near her's, his trembling exhales gracing her
lips with a sultry heat. "Before I am truly the first born son of
Aspen."
There lips met and Cameron gently gripped his
hands around her waist. Guinevere kissed him with the passion that
welled up inside her body, begging for a kiss worthy of all those
torrid nights alone with the sheets tangled between her thighs. She
pulled his lips into hers and raised her hands over his face,
sliding them up into the tangles of his soft hair. Cameron's hands
moved slowly up her body, the heat of his hands teasing her body
through the bodice of her dress. His fingers paused beneath her
bosom, and