The King’s Lover

Rose stood in front of what she could only assume was the crown prince's chambers. There were a handful of guards around the hallway and two stationed in front. They stared at her oddly, their eyes sharp beneath the glow of the torches lining the hallway. Rose held her breath as she waited for them to open the door. 

Rose stepped forward hesitantly. She was alone; the maids had left her as soon as they had readied her. One of them had revealed they weren't allowed in the crown prince's wing except when given permission, so she had made most of the journey here alone. However, it didn't take her long to find the prince's chambers—the row of guards was enough indication. 

Rose gasped as she stepped into the room. It felt wrong for her to call it a room. It was big—big enough to be a hall. The ceiling was just as tall. There was a huge bed with a canopy over it; the drapes of the four-poster bed were drawn, and Rose couldn't see it, but she could figure out the size. She turned her gaze away from the bed. Thinking it was a good thing she couldn't see it. 

Rose couldn't help but run her eyes across the room. If she wasn't so scared, she would have moved closer to inspect it. The most obvious thing was the family emblem on the wall, which held the mountain, but instead of clouds around the top, there was the sun shining just over it. It was the same crest she had seen in the carriage, and she was sure the prince's ring carried this. 

The room was a mix of different colors but mostly gold, white, and blue. The drapes for the bed were blue and gold. The curtains were the same, but the curtains were so tall they reached all the way to the ceiling. Rose frowned as her gaze rested on a set of doors. She could only guess it was a door; there was a huge curtain in front of it, but it was different and separated from the rest. 

She found her feet moving before she could stop herself. This didn't look like it led to the bathroom. She swung the curtains and saw a set of doors. She could see the moon peeking through the small glass pane. It was a wooden double door, and Rose could tell it was sturdy. 

She moved closer, trying to peek out some more. She couldn't see much, but she could guess this door led to a balcony. Rose winced at the thought, but she wouldn't hit the ground without injury. It was at least thirty meters between this floor and the ground. She turned away from the door. Now was not the time to think of how to escape. Maybe it was, but mentally preparing herself was far more important. 

There were chairs in the room—a little too many, if Rose was asked. She could count no less than five: two long chairs and three smaller ones. They were closer to the fireplace, which was burning a little. It was a major source of light in the room, as barely any candles were lit. 

Rose walked away from the balcony doors, but she didn't take a seat. Instead, she just stood and held her arms around herself. Any minute now, the crown prince would walk through the doors. Rose caught a whiff of the perfumes the maids had sprayed on her. She couldn't remember the names if she tried. 

They had bathed her in warm, scented water, washed her hair thoroughly, clipped her nails, and rubbed lotion and oils all over her. Rose didn't think she had ever felt this refreshed and soft in her life. However, the maids hadn't done this willingly. They had complained the whole time and gossiped too. This was usual for the crown prince, but according to the maids, his tastes were usually court ladies and courtesans. 

"This is the first time His Royal Highness would bring a backwater peasant with a dialect so thick it is impossible to understand her," a maid had said. 

Rose rubbed herself. If she wasn't his usual type, then why did he pick her? She wanted to go home. Rose looked at the window again. It was suicide to jump out, but right now, it looked very tempting. She took a deep breath. She could do this. 

Rose heard voices, and her eyes widened. She instinctively backed herself against the wall. She thought she'd have more time, but it was clear she did not. He was here, and he would take what she had promised him. 

The door opened slowly. Rose stood with her arms wrapped around her body, the robe tightly tied. She was away from the bed and right next to the fireplace. The first person who walked into the room wasn't the crown prince; it was the steward, Henry. She could have assumed it was any servant, but Rose knew immediately this was the steward, and he was in charge of affairs concerning the castle and the crown prince. 

"She is here as you asked, Your Highness," Henry was saying. 

"Good," Caius said as he walked in with no less than three servants behind him but didn't look in her direction. "Let up the drapes." 

A servant moved quickly, tying each drape to its nearby pole. The bed was sparkling with white sheets and pillows that covered the top part. The bed had been laid to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. 

"Prepare my robes and be gone. I will go wash up. You," he said, finally looking at her. "Be on it by the time I return." 

Rose swallowed, but it felt like she was trying to fit a ball down her throat. She didn't need him to explicitly say what "it" was; she already knew. Caius didn't wait for a response before he made his way to the washroom. 

As soon as the door closed, the steward lifted his head, as did the rest of the servants, and turned to Rose. "What is your name?" 

"Rose," she softly said. 

"I am Henry, the steward of the House of Ravenor. You will call me Mister Henry." 

Rose nodded and curtsied.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but there didn't seem to be any malice in them—more like he was studying her. "Get on the bed," he commanded. 

Rose hesitated, looking around in fear. 

Henry suddenly looked impatient. "It would do you well to do exactly as His Highness asks of you. For both our sakes. You only have one job here; make sure you do it right."