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A Prince and his maid [Kaziel and Ashlee_babe]

A

ashlee_babe

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 21, 2009
Another day, another lie.

Marguerite awoke to the sounds and smells of the castle. The crackling of the fire and the smell of the smoke, the singing in the kitchen as the morning meal was made. All while the sun peaked its way through the horizon. She sat up and brushed her curls out of her face. Wrinkling her nose, she swung her feet over the edge of her small bed and opened her curtains. She inhaled the morning air, and then moved away, stretching her still sleeping body.

Marguerite was the Kingâ??s personal maid. She had served him for almost two years without fail. She was only a child of eight and she was orphaned by her own father.

Living as a maid had its perks and its downfalls. She was described as being unspeakably beautiful and kind. The men were half in love with her and the women respected her and her title as head of the house. She knew when to keep her business to herself and her mind on her work. But seeing the King with his lovers and mistresses was not something she enjoyed.
Marguerite had long waves of hair, the color of chocolate silk that cascaded down her back. Her skin was smooth and flawless, the color of cream. Her eyes were wide and curious to the world around her. The color was so blue; it shamed sapphires that glittered in the sunlight. Her height was small, five feet, but her curves were all woman. Her mind was sharp and she was well-educated.

Dressing into her simple yellow dress and tying her hair back with a matching ribbon, she walked into the kitchens to collect the tray for his Highnessâ?? morning feast. Taking a tray of porridge, wine, water, juice, breast, and a morning broth, Marguerite was careful of the chatter that danced throughout the halls. The menâ??sâ?? eyes on here was not a new pastime and she shrugged them off.

She opened the door to the master en suite and set the tray down, â??Rise, your Grace, it is time to see the day.â? Marguerite did not open the curtains knowing he hated such a thing. She walked into his wardrobe and picked out his the day and laid it out for him as she ordered him a bath. â??My Lord you have a busy day and I cannot see your face under all of those covers. â?? She giggled; her voice was soft and musical.
 
Already well awake, he had covered himself when he heard Marguerite coming up the stairs to his tower. While he did so enjoy laying in bed, it's huge matress, luxurious down pillows and long red fur cover keeping the boredom of the day and the chill away, it was also a game he played almost every morning. He would stay in bed as long as he could, until she came in and dragged him from bed.

She saw his fingers curl over the edge of the cover as he sat up, letting it fall just far enough so that his long blond mop of hair and blue-grey eyes peeked out. "You come in here, like every morning, loudly barking orders and waking me from a beautiful night's sleep, with dreams of women as far as the eye could see." Despite what he said, she could hear the playful jesting in his voice. "Such a horrible person you are, Marguerite."

Releasing the cover, it fell away, his slim frame showing in the dim light of his bedroom. Slight as he may have been, there were muscles corded under his skin from his daily training with swordplay and numerous expeditions out hunting, riding, and hawking in the countryside. His face was long and thin, like his frame, many considered him quite fetching, though a bit hawkish, his goatee adding years to his face that his body did not have.

Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his hair, it being brushed from his face as he pushed himself over to the edge of the bed, slipping his legs over the side. He was wearing a pair of loose pants, the same thing he did every night, as he lightly touched the floor with one toe, another ritual he did every morning. And just like every other morning, he found the stone floor to be chilly, at which point he wrapped his arms around him and gave a mock shiver, and glanced at Marguerite smiling. "My slippers, Marguerite?"
 
"You are such a lovely prince in the morning. So sweet." She jested as she looked at the prince emerged out of the bed. She knew he was only joking but it was their way in the morning. She had developed a little longing for the mornings during the two yeas she had been working as his maid. However, it was due time for the prince to become king and marry. Her little infatuation with him had to be over-looked and in turn cater to a new queen. "The day is turning out to be lovely indeed."

She drew the curtains back before she placed his shoes before his feet. "Your day is very full. I have to see to your swords and weapons the blacksmith has prepared for your amory. You also have your new consort coming in this eve. Hopefully this one will be able to put up with you enough to marry you. I know you have pressure to marry and produce and heir soon. And as soon as you re married, I believe I should look for a suitor myself."

In all honesty, she was asked by a few of the guards on the property about the prospects of marriage. She wanted to save hrself for someone she truly loved but it seemed she would have to settle on one of the men that worked here. "I know you are not excited about this but I must marry soon. I am not getting any younger, my lord." She placed the tray of food on the small table as she went to his wardrobe and rifled through his clothing so he can impress his future wife.

"I think the blue coat would look wonderful on you and bring out your eyes. I will leave you to get dressed." She turned and walked out of the room and into the halls of the castle. She took a basked from the kitchens and went out into the gardens on her way to the blacksmith shop. She picked pretty yello roses and red ones too. She trimmed a few bunches of wild flowers but finished her walk to the blacksmith.
 
Slipping his tongue between his lips, he stuck it out at her, though a small smile tugged at the edge of his lips. Hearing her describe the day, he thought of what was ahead of him. The morning would involve him sitting on that painful throne, listening the needs of his subjects. While he detested sitting there, and usually spent some of the time pacing as he listened, he enjoyed helping out his subjects as best he could. He had met rulers of neighboring kingdoms who knew, like him, that they were touched by the Gods and it was their destiny to rule, but unlike most he was not so foolish to believe that without his vassals that he could live the life that he did, thus he strove to ensure a healthy life for as many as he could.

Around noon he knew he would take a break for lunch, which would be followed with working with his trainer for swordplay. He looked forward to this since he found that when he was exerting himself and focusing on After he finished his training, he would get the sole bit of relaxation for the day as he had planned a hunt to bring in a deer, for tonight's feast.

The feast was to celebrate the arrival of his latest potential bride. "Lady..." he thought as struggled to remember her name, "Kataline." was what he came up with. He hoped that was her name. Before he had forgotten the name of one of the previous ladies who had arrived. That hadn't gone well, and his cheeks flushed as he embarrassingly remembered that nightmare of a day.

He winced as Marguerite opened the curtains, light flooding into the room compared to it's darkness from before. As she had her back turned, he glanced at her, admiring her silhouetted figure in the window, a genuine smile flitting across his face, before he replaced the mask as she turned back to him and gave him his shoes, which he slipped into as he stood.

He gave a mock pout at the mention of her marrying. "But without you to wake me every morning with your incessant chattering, how will I survive?" He walked over to the tray of food and began to pick through it, taking bits and pieces he enjoyed, but not fully eating what was served before him.

Looking up at the coat held before him, he shrugged casually. "Yes, must make sure to look good for when the huss... I mean, Lady comes to see me." He smirked at his intentional slip of the tongue. Watching Marguerite as she exited his room, sighing softly, he slipped out of his pants and began to dress for the long day ahead, glancing out the window, watching her as she began to make her way through the courtyard, a more audible sigh escaping his lips. No matter how much he wanted her, he knew that he could never have her. A Prince, soon to be King, marrying a commoner? Unheard of. Shaking his head, he turned and walked out of his tower towards the throne room.

======

Down in the courtyard, Puck, or as he had been come to be known as "Col", short for Colossus, the Blacksmith hammered away at a new sword on his anvil. His parents had named him Puck before they knew the massive stature he'd grow into, the name being a reference to a fae creature in a story they had told him when he was younger. Quite the opposite of his name, he was massive, at almost six and a half feet tall, weighing in at over two-hundred and fifty pounds, almost all of it muscle. Wearing only an apron and slacks, his skin was tanned from days spent out in the sun, his muscled shoulders flexing as he swung, his dark hair cut quite short to keep him safe from stray sparks. He shaved once or twice a week, almost always appearing to have stubble covering his solid chin.

Noticing someone out of the corner of his eye, he looked with deep brown, almost black eyes up to see Marguerite approaching the Smith. Setting aside the sword he was working on and his hammer he smiled and raised a hand waving at her. "Hallo there, Marguerite!"
 
Marguerite looked over up at Col and nearly gasped. She always felt so small around him. He was massive in form and in heart. His smile was geniune and warm. "Hello Col, how is your morning going? I was just coming here to check on His Majesties' new weaponry. Was there any troubles or issues that need to be informed to the prince. I do mot want any faulty workmanship." She joked with him and sat down on a nearby bench. She brushed a few curls out of hr face before to turned her attentions to the male in front of her.

"Col, I must marry soon before the prince decides to choose for me. I am not sure how to go about it. You have been known to turn a few heads, please tell me how I am to choose and stay with a man." She asked sweetly and then turned herself out the window and saw the men practicing.

"Who do you see me with? A guard or a butler? I want someone who would care for me unconditionally." She smirked and then blushed when she saw the prince walk out onto the field with his new fiance. She knew that this woman would be the head of the household. Maggie waved to them as they went to the practice fields and she had a question on her minD.

"Why have you not married?" She asked Col for the honestly. "Has there been any girls that have captured your heart or are you waiting for the right woman. What qualities do you wish to see in a wife?"
 
Reaching behind him, deftly untying the back of his apron, then pulling it up and over his neck, he set it up on a hook, the muscles in his arms and back flexing under his skin as he did so. Looking over his shoulder as she sat, he replied casually "Thar weren't any prollums with tha makin' of His Majesties blade." His voice thick with the accent he had gotten from his parents who were not natives of this land. "I'da say that it be me finest piece o' work ta date."

He turned to her smiling with pride as he walked over to where he stored his completed pieces, picking up an intricately designed, sheathed longsword. As lovingly as a father would care for it's child, he drew it from the scabbard and held it's glimmering length in his hand, giving it a few experimental swings. While Col was not high enough ranked to be worthy of receiving sword lessons, the natural balance of the blade made him look the natural.

As she began to speak of marriage, he turned away from her as flashes of images of the two of them together, her in a stunning gown, him in his best outfit at the altar of the local church getting married. He turned back just in time to see her blush as the Prince and his latest consort came into sight. Bending over next to her, even crouching he was taller than she was sitting.

Before he had a chance to respond about what type of man he thought she could be with, she asked him about his interests. He knew the answer, but it shocked him that she was asking so directly. Glad she was still looking away as his cheeks reddened, he stuttered softly before regaining his composure. "Well, ah... I do have a lass tha' has taken my fancy..." he replied after a moment, looking away from her. "It's just hard voicin' my feelin's. It's not simple ta me, like forgin' a sword or fixin' some armor. Those always go tha way ya expect them to, but what if she rejects me?" He felt very akward talking to Marguerite directly about his feelings for her, without naming her as the object of those affections.

======

The Prince let out an small sigh as he stepped into the courtyard, before quickly covering up his feelings with a mask of dignity and poise, beaming smile as he headed out to the practice fields. Lady Kataline had decided to surprise him arriving early. She had been waiting for him when he came downstairs into the throneroom, his subjects sent home to prepare to celebrate the arrival of their new queen.

He was not amused.

First off, while yes he was expected to, he had not yet married her and that gave her no power her. She had no right to order his subjects around. They had needs that he needed to resolve, and by dismissing them meant that over the forthcoming days he would have a backlog of people who needed to be attended to, which meant problems which compounded themselves, or worse fights between his people.

Second off, she wasn't due to arrive until well into the afternoon. The sun hadn't been up an hour and she'd already arrived. His father, Gods rest his soul, had always taught him to be punctual. Never late, but not too early either. As much as he played the part of unwilling to wake, he was very glad for Marguerite waking him every morning to ensure that he was up and out by the appropriate time. By showing up early, any plans they could have made to make Lady Kataline's arrival a more suitable one for a lady of her position were shattered in an instant.

Finally, upon meeting her, she practically demanded that he show her around. She had phrased it as a question, no doubt, but her wording was in a way there was little doubt what she expected him to do. "Well, are you going to show me around my new home?" she had asked. No honorifics, her "new home", along with the way she phrased it made him practically bristle. Somehow he had maintained his self-control, but even minutes later he was still not sure how he did it.

No... he was not amused.

But thinking again about Marguerite, he wondered how he would survive if she married. She couldn't very well remain his maid after marriage. She would have duties to her husband, no the least of which would be to bear him children. And... no... there was little point going down that train of thought for the dozenth time. Glancing over to the Blacksmith's shed, he saw Col and Marguerite, his smile softening from the forced one to his true smile as he waved to them.
 
Marguerite watched the couple wave before she turned her attentions back to the blacksmith. That smile the prince had had on his face made her grimance. She knew it was completely fake and plastered but he could not help it. They were heading towards the blacksmith shop she assumed was part of the tour.

"Col, who has caught your attentions? You know I can keep a nice intrigue when needed. Is it one of the maids in the household or a lovely woman in town? Col, you are impossible sweet and quite the looker. Why would any woman reject you?" Marguerite asked as she gently placed a hand on his. "Women here look at you as a Highlander dream, tall handsome and sweet. How can you not find a woman to grace your arm and bed as a wife."

Marguerite played with a few of her stray curls. "Col, do you ever see me getting marriedI mean with a man here on the estate. Many of the miads think I shall marry a duke will come and whisk me away but I do not have the lineage for it. I wanted to marry and have children. With the Prince taking the throne and marrying, it may be the best time for me to do it." Her voice did not crack under the words but the prince was her best friend and her true companion in the castle. As well as Col.

"Hello, my Lord and Lady." She rose and bowed when the couple finally arrived to the small cottage. "I did not know you would be here so early, my lady. I would have prepared a better welcoming for you."
 
Col's skin felt afire as she placed her hand on his, looking into her stunning sapphire eyes, he could stood a little straighter. "It's nah that I canna' find a lass, but... well it'd just make things very complicated if'n she dunna feel the way I do... she does work here in the Lord's abode."

Breathing in deeply, his cheeks burning, he placed his hand on hers, heartened as she described him in complementary ways. Maybe she would feel the same way, he thought. "In truth, Maggie, tha one I long for, to be mine wife is..." before he could finish it and confess his feelings to her, the Prince's voice could be heard from right outsdie the smith. He was having enough trouble saying such things with just the two of them. It was impossible to do it in front of others.

The Prince and his new consort stepped inside and Marguerite turned away from him, her hand slipping from between his, the moment lost. He let out an inaudible sigh, as he kneeled, thankful for the moment his head was bowed so he could recover control of his emotions.

The Prince waved around the Blacksmith. "And this, Lady Kataline, is our blacksmith, Col. He is an artisan of supreme quality." Saying this he smiled at Col as he rose with Marguerite. The well dressed lady next to him crinkled her nose, and in a high pitched voice replied "Ugh... such a filthy place... why are you showing this to me? I wish to see the places like the dining hall, or..." As she said this, she glanced at him wickedly "your bedroom."

Feigning a smile again, he looked at her and through grinding teeth gave his own reply, "You asked to be shown around... I am showing you around." To both Marguerite and Col it was obvious that this was not the first spat between them. "If you want to see something, why don't you go ahead, Lady... I have some business to attend to with Col and I will catch up to you." Rolling her eyes at the two servants, she strode out and began marching back towards the center keep.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, the Prince let the mask of the grin drop, bringing his hands to face as he let out a growl of frustration. "This... this... thing is driving me insane!" he let out a moan of frustration. "First, she arrives hours ahead of time, then she completely ruins the day for not only the entire castle staff now having to rush around to try to accommodate her early appearance, but also by cancelling the countryfolk's audience with me." He began to pace as he ranted, his face turning red. "Who knows what serious problems needed resolution! But she just comes in like she already is the queen! I just want to throttle her!"

Turning away from them he planted his hands on the wall of the small shed and bowed his head as he breathed in and out for a few moments. Turning back to them, his color returned to normal. Breathing out heavily through his thin nose, he closed his eyes before opening and looking between the two others in the smith with him. "I'm terribly sorry about that outburst. Completely unbecoming of me, as your Prince."
 
Marguerite was listening intently as Col began to talk about the woman he wished to whisk away and marry. She was ready to hear it, to see who the woman was who had stolen his handsome heart. He was kneeling before her and her heart began to thud. Was it her indeed? It seemed to be pausible but when the prince arrived she was shaken out of the spell of his dark gaze and back to the prince. "Oh yes, its a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kataline. I do apologize I was not there for your arrival but your early arrival made it hard for me to plan. I have the other servants working on everything for your comforts." The prince had dismissed the woman and she smiled.

"Its not the first time I have heard you rant nor complain. I cannot understand your need to impress this woman. I cannot see you married to her. I know you wish for me to be honest but she is horrendous." Marguerite added as she rose and stood closer to Col.

"I just saw your finished sword and it looks wonderful. Col does such a lovely job on all things he makes. I wished he would marry soon." She winked at Col and sighed. "Now you need to get back to her. I know shemust be laying your bed naked." She laughed and sat next to Col.

"I am going to finish up here and then maybe go for a walk in the fields some more. I wanted a pick a few more blooms before nightfall. I know you will be busy until then. Would you like to accompany me Col?"
 
"I assure you, Marguerite, that I have little desire to impress, let alone marry her. But as Prince of this land I have duties to all who come here..." The Prince said as he glanced out the door that Lady Kataline had walked through "Even little..." the rest of his words were mostly unheard as he muttered to himself, obviously using phrases which shouldn't be applied to ladies such as she "...as her."

Looking back and forth between, seeing a closeness between them, he realized that maybe what he had been seeing through the window wasn't mistaken... It appeared that Col and her had a closer relationship than at first glance. He scrunched his eyebrows together in throught... just this morning she had been thinking about who she should marry. This must be a new development... one he was hardly pleased with. But since she hadn't said anything to him, who he believed to be her closest confidant, maybe he had interrupted just before Col could tell her.

Thinking quickly on his feet, he figured the best option was to try to keep Marguerite busy... keep them apart. A part of him rationally knew he couldn't wed Marguerite, but his thoughts right now were anything but rational. Clearing his throat as she asked Col to join her out picking some flowers. "Marguerite, you know I hate to be a bear about your own duties but I would feel a lot more comfortable if you would stay around the castle doing your best to make sure everything is going well for prepartations for lunch and dinner. I'm less concerned about impressing her and more worried that she will try to impose her 'rule'" he said this with obvious disdain, "on the rest of the castle staff." Giving her a charming smile, he turned to the door, then glanced back at Col.

"I know your fine workmanship by now and if she says it's good, it'll be great... but with the Royal Nightmare running around the castle, I can't very well just dally and play with swords. I'll be by to pick it up tomorrow." Glancing back at Marguerite, "And in thanks could you have one of the servants deliver him some of tonights feast's dinner. I'll have more thanks for him later, but it's the best I can do at the moment." With that he rushed out the door, chasing after the horrible monster that was tearing about the castle.
 
"I-I was going to," she paused for a moment wanted to stay with Col and finish their conversation but it was useless. He was already irriatated with his guest and the staff. "I will just have to talk with you later Col, I have to attend to the castle. Maybe I can sneak away for the evening meal and bring you your feast." She smiled weakly as she followed the prince towards the spacious palace.

The day unfortunately went on longer than she wanted it too. The Lady Kataline was rude and incredibly erratic. She wanted everything re-arranged to fit her needs in her rooms. She wished for the feast to be re-cooked and made to her liking. She depised poor Marguerite because of the beauty the maid had shown to her fiance and the staff. Marguerite was able to slip away and changed for dinner. Her gown was a soft pink, like the color of a spring rose, and her hair was pinned a sophisticated manner and no rouge or powder grazed her face.

Marguerite looked about the hall and saw the dancers smiling and the musicians playing happily. She went back into the kitchens and made a heavy tray of meats and breads for Col. She took a candle with her to light her way through the darkened gardens and fields. She knocked on his door and waited patiently for an answer. "I know the hour is late Col, but I have food and my company to share for a few minutes." She giggled a little unsure on how to phrase it properly. She sounded like a courtesan asking for a night with the king. "Its rather cold, would you have me wait in the chill?" She joked as a a chilly wind caressed her skin.
 
Col had been laying in his small bed next to the forge, little need for a blanket or candles with the warmth and the glow of the days fires keeping his small hut comfortable for most, if not all of the night. Hearing a knock at his door he stood, pulling on his slacks which he had discarded as he lay down for the night. "I'll be right thar, Maggie." he called through the door. He was holding up his pants, not wanting to waste time putting on his belt and leave her out in the cold night, as he opened the door, a wave of heat rolling out and caressing her bared skin. He sucked in his breath sharply as he saw her in her dinnerwear.

"Ye look beautiful, Maggie." he said as he couldn't keep his eyes off her. All of a sudden he felt like such an oaf standing there wearing pants which wouldn't stay up without his grip on them, still reeking of sweat, coal, and soot from the day's work.
 
Margeurite entered his abode and smiled. "I did not mean to wake you but this was the only time I could get away. The prince was very demanding of me this evening the the woman was no better." She added as she set the tray and the candle down. "I hope youer hungry, I know its hot, or was before I went outside." She added ad giggled. She sat on his little cot as he stared at her. She unpinned her hair enough to let it fall down her back.

"I hope you do not mind if I say here for a few moments. I have been ran ragged today and need a little breather. What did you want to talk about today before we were interrupted. I think you were going to tell me who you were considering for marriage." She yawned and curled up on his cot trying to keep her eyes open.

"Its so warm and toasty in here. I can just curl up and fall asleep."
 
Slipping aside as Marguerite entered, he smiled as the scent of the food wafted past his nose. Such meats were usually well beyond the reach of one so lowly as he, so he found himself almost salivating at just the smell.

As she sat, and then laid on his bed, her words spilling from her mouth, his heart began to beat faster. She was asking him this again, only now there wouldn't be anyone to interrupt. Kneeling down next to his bed, he took her delicate hand in his large free hand, feeling how tiny she was and he looked her deeply in the eyes. He took a deep breath before he began, "I was tryin' ta say it this afternoon, Maggie, but the one I wanna wed, to have and hold is..." His stomach was rolling all over itself inside him, "...you. You're the one."

There.

It was out... he'd said it and he could only hope for the best, though that didn't stop him from gulping audibly, still completely nervous.
 
"You wish to marry," She paused and sat up. "me?" It took her a few moments before she looked him in the eyes. She did not know what to say and wanted to get some fresh air. "I should really be going, Col. The hour is late and I know we both have very busy days ahead of us." She could not say she loved him because she was still in a state of shock. Was this a proposal or a confession of love.

"I," She stopped as she stood by the door, "Why me? I do not see anything in myself that is above ordinary. There are plenty of women here who are much lovilier than myself who are vying for your affections. I had no idea you wanted me in that manner. I need some time to think this through." She added and left the little cottage she was just in. She ran towards the castle and to her rooms. Her heart was pounding erratically.

The hour was late within the caste but a lot of the servants were still buzzing about like bees. A maid found her not too far from the main hall asking Marguerite to go to the Prince's room for some last minute orders for the following day. She pushed ehr shoulders back, put on a brave face and headed to the room. She knocked on the door before sneaking in a quck yawn. "You summoned me?"
 
As Marguerite got up and made her way out, her words like a flurry of blows pounding into him, he opened his mouth a few times, trying to say something... anything... but nothing would come out. Once she left, suddenly the small cottage felt colder. She hadn't rejected him which was the sole thing keeping him from collasping in grief, but nor had she reciprocated his feelings. He sat on his bed, her scent wafting off of it as he picked idly at the large meal she had brought to him, sighing loudly.

======

As Marguerite entered, she heard a groan of some sort. Laying halfway on his bed, his legs dangling off of it, was the Prince. He sat up, his cheeks bright red. "Maggie! You came!" he said upon her entrance, his voice thick, slurring slightly. He was obviously heavily intoxicated.

"Oh you missed it, Maggie... you missed it." He grinned at her. "That stupid Lady katli... Katata... Whatshername... oh I got her good!" He was weaving his hand in the air wildly as he talked. "Sho after you left to... where ever you went, the main courshe came back again. And she threw another hisshy fit. And I had jusht had it!" He pounded his fist on the bed to make his point, though the softness of his mattress greatly diminished this effect.

"I shtalked over to where shhe was, and threw the plate of meat right in her face!" He let loose a loud bark of a laugh at this. "Oh the look on her face... you woulda loved it! Then I told her how horrible shhe had been acting all day, and for her to get out of my castle." Grinning to himself with pride, he continued, "I've never sheen anyone so flabab.... flatb... embarrassed before in my life, but oh she deshurved it."

Pushing himself up to his feet, he stumbled a few steps towards her, "Maggie... why do I gotta marry shome stuck up bitch like her? I hate people like that... why can't I just go off and marry shomeone nice..." he looked at the floor for a moment "...like you? Yeah... you're nice, and pretty, and you know me and the castle already."

His face lit up as if this was a good idea. "That's what I'll do... I'll marry you!" He said this and pointed at Marguerite for emphasis. "In fact, I'll go downshtairs and tell everyone right now."
 
Margerutei listened to hi drunken confessions and could not help but release a laugh. He was beyond a sober mind and his story made it come to life. She could picture the woman looking completely enraged and not being able to do a thinkg about it. He could have her beheaded within an hour if warranted. She decided to listen to his rambles until he mentioned her and marriage. She panicked and grabbed his hand.

"No, I cannot mary you and we both know it. Besides, Col proposed to me and I think I am going to accept. He is of the right station and he will not be chastised for his marriage to me. You are not of a sound mind and cannot be liable for what you are saying." Marguerite placed a hand on his shoulder to offer a sign of comfort.

"Why does everyone think I am this perfect person. I am simply a maid and like to do my work. Kindness is something I was raised with." She smiled weakly and then looked for an excuse to leave. "Come on, let us get you to bed. I know you must be feeling rather tired and dizzy." She helped him undress and tucked him into his bed. She made a pot of tea and sat in his room for a little while longer making sure she was not needed. She soon drifted off in the chair by the fire.
 
The alcohol had finally gotten to him. As Marguerite and lead him to his bed, talking about marrying Col, he attempted to reply, but all that came out gargled grunts. He lay there in a daze after she had tucked him in, not quite able to fall asleep. His mouth wasn't working, but his brain was, albeit in a quite addled state. Thinking about losing her still bothered him... and despite his attempts it seemed she had talked to Col...

He turned his head, noticing that the fire in his room had gone out... Had sleep overtaken him? The chill of the air was creeping in, and Marguerite was sitting in the chair of his room, fast asleep. He pushed himself over, one leg trailing off the edge, touching the cold floor, followed by the other, a shiver running up his spine, chasing a bit of the alcohol from his brain.

Dragging the thick comforter from his bed, he dragged it over to the large chair she had slipped into dreams on and he slipped next to her, pulling the cover over them. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her onto his lap. She still slept, and before he closed his eyes, he whispered, his voice mostly clear of the alcohol he had imbibed. "I love you, Maggie... I don't want you to marry Col, or anyone else for that matter... just me." He then let his eyes slip closed, keeping Marguerite in his arms.
 
She did not feel him move her to his lap after he woke up. She slightly stirred and curled up closer to his body. She sighed sweetly as the warmth wa engulfing the two of them. She could not hlep but feel like this was a wonderful dream. Marguerite woke slowly the next morning, like she would any morning, but she was not in her room. She was in a chair in the Prince's room and more than that she was in his arms.

"My Lord, what are we doing? I," she moved from him and was a little frazzled. "What happened last night." It took her a moment to remember that she had been watching over him in his drunken state. She move her hair out of her face. "I have to get my chores started. I have to talk to Col. I am giving him my answer and I need to begin preparations."

She felt guilty for staying the night but then the door was rattled and knocked. A woman demanded entrance.
 
The door rattled a few more times when no one replied, and then was forced open and Lady Kataline spilled into the room. She was breathing heavily, having obviously just run upstairs the Prince's tower, and she immediately began talking. "I'm here to awaken you, my lo..." her sentance trailed off as she saw Marguerite sitting in the Prince's lap, him still asleep, both of them covered by blankets.

Her eyes went wide and her mouth went wide, horror covering her face. Raising her arm and pointing at Marguerite, "You... you... TRAMP!" She spat out at Marguerite. This outburst was enough to wake up the Prince, who wiggled in the chair and wrapped pulled Marguerite closer, and he let out a soft groan of pain from his terrible hangover. "Wha...?" he mumbled

Before Marguerite could respond, Lady Kataline stormed out of the room and practically flew down the stairs. She couldn't believe this was happening... that... that... servant over a high class lady like her? Oh, she'd have her revenge... she would in deed!
 
Margeurite heard the door forced open and she attempted to free herself from his lap. It was no use. Lady Kataline came in and saw them and Marguerite's eyes were wide. She was being called a tramp and the prince was just asleep unaware of what his fiance was doing. "No, you do not understand I fell asleep in a chair and he must have come to keep me warm." She added but the woman was gone.

"My Lord, wake up please. Your fiance saw us." There were tears still in her eyes and she had to go. "I have chores to do and I need to try and clean this up. I have to go talk to Col." She added as she moved off of hs lap and wiped a few tears from her face and tried to remain calm. Her life was going to be ruined and all her dreams of having a family and a caring husband were nearly destroyed.

"I have to go to Col."
 
Everything seemed so loud and bright. The Prince clenched his eyes shut. Maggie was saying something, but in the pain from his hangover, he couldn't really understand her. He let out another groan of pain, and stood up and stumbled away from light. "Wha... what's going on, Maggie? I..." he gave his head a shake and leaned up against the wall. "My head feels fuzzy. Gods, I shouldn't have drunken so much last night..."
 
"Drinking? Hangovers? You are concerned about yourself but my life has been ruined because you were drunk last eve. My virtue is at stack and you care about your hangover. That is rich even coming from you." Marguerite had snapped. He cared about himself and she should have known better. "Your fiance came in here and accused us sleeping together and I have to go and explain things to Col if he will even have me." She proclaimed as she paced the room
 
She was yelling at him... she had never yelled at him. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. This was obviously worse than he had originally realized. "I don't just care about my hangover, but I can't very well help you if I can't think straight, can I?" He almost snarled in return. Holding his head in his hands, his brain still throbbing, "And I'll be damned if she's still my fiancée. She shouldn't even still be here."

Taking a deep breath, he stood tall and walked over to his closet, quickly stripping down, not stopping even though Marguerite was still in the room, and he quickly dressed himself. He couldn't worry about her right now... sure, that stupid royal bitch was the one who'd be talking, but it was still his fault for pulling Maggie onto his lap and sleeping with her, and he had to fix it... now.
 
Marguerite looked up at him as he snapped. "I forgot my place but, my life is," She paused as she took a deep breath. "My life may be ruined becuase of this." She whispered as she sat in the chair and cried. She noticed him change and decided to let the blush brun her cheeks. She had nothing really to say to him. He emerged dressed looking as if he was on a mission. Her thoughts went to Col and what he may think of her. She never wanted to do anything to hurt him but he was not her husband and he was a blacksmith not a king.

She followed him out of the room leaving him to the damage control as she bathed and changed in her bedroom. SHe dressed in a gown of red and laughed. The Scarlet letter came to mind when she walked out into the halls and the main floors. No one really talked to her but she felt like she was being watched when she walked by. She walked throught the kitchens and towards Col's shop
 
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