Chosen By The Prince

Chosen By The Prince

Calyope Adams

Copyright © Calyope Adams

For those who encouraged me to follow my dreams

Chapters

Part One:
Chosen By The Prince

Part Two:
The Prince's Pleasure

Part Three:
The Royal Concubine

Part Four:
The Prince's Bride

Part Five:
The Prince's Patience

Part Six:
The Prince's Command

Part Seven:The Royal Wedding

Note from the author

Chosen By The Prince

Jillian

Jillian stood with her friends, laughing and gossiping. They sipped a sweet infusion of rose petals in liquor, savoring the flavor. The food at the Palace was always the best, and the celebration today was no exception. The cause for the celebration was somewhat mysterious however.

Jillian was noticeable from afar, her looks making her stand out from the other girls. There was an innocence about her, as well as a sensuality, in the dark gold of her eyes and gleam of her bronze colored hair. Her lips pouted playfully as her friends whispered about the Prince. He was just over there, standing in the center of several young men. He was staring at her, she realized with a start.

Prince Maximilian always had an odd look on his face when he looked at her. He looked determined... and hungry somehow.

A shiver ran down her back. So what if the Prince didn't like her? What difference did it make? Her father was about to announce her engagement to the second most eligible man in all the land, the young Duke Henry. She smiled to herself. Her friends would be green with envy when they knew. It wasn't her fault that her dowry was the largest, or that her face held the classical lines of beauty that made all men give her a second glance, and a third, and a fourth...

Her face was oval, with her huge gold eyes dominating her delicate features and tawny skin. High cheekbones, a small nose and a rosebud of a mouth that invited a man to kiss it. None had yet of course but she was sure that... well, she wasn't exactly sure what would happen then. Like other well bred virgins, she had been deliberately kept in the dark about what happens between a man and a woman behind closed doors. She was sure it was exciting though. And she'd find out soon enough!

A soft blush tinged her cheeks as she caught the Prince staring at her again. He was standing with the Duke, their heads tilted slightly together as they watched her. The Duke was fair while the Prince had dark hair and piercing green eyes. He was incredibly handsome and well built, tall and slim with an aristocratic bearing. But for some reason, Jillian always found herself irritated by his smug good looks. Now was no exception.

She smiled pointedly at Duke Henry then tossed her head at the Prince, glaring at him archly over her shoulder and turning her back. She caught a glimpse of the slow smile that was sliding across his face... before her friends caught her attention again, urging her to taste the strawberry tarts.

The luncheon party was drawing to a close as Jillian followed her friends to the gate to await their carriages. She was tired and a bit tipsy from the beverages pushed on her all day. She stifled a yawn as the King's advisor swept into the room followed by a contingent of guards. They marched forward with purpose. It almost looked as if they were coming straight toward her...

Jillian already had her cloak on and was standing with her friends as they stared at Valspar, open mouthed.

"Lady Jillian, please come with me."

Her eyes widened as he took her elbow firmly and guided her back into the main hall.

"What's this all about?"

"Your cloak, if you please."

He held his hands out, waiting until she removed her cloak and placed it in his hands. What choice did she have really? He passed it to a servant who was hovering nearby, who took it away.

Well, that was odd.

"Please sit."

He guided her to a seat in the corner of the great hall. There were still people enjoying the party on the other side of the room, where the Prince was leaning against the windows, smiling lazily.

She realized the Prince was watching her again. But not her face. He was looking at her body. She stiffened and sat down abruptly.

How rude!

She turned her attention to the older man who stood before her. The guards had fanned out around her chair, blocking her view of the exit. The whole thing was disconcerting.
 

"It is my great honor to inform you that you have been selected."

Her mouth opened a bit as she stared at him.

"Selected for what? I don't understand..."

He looked at her closely, a hard look on his face. An odd feeling was settling in Jillian's stomach. Dread... It was dread.

"The Prince has chosen you to be his Sofriquette."

"His... what?"

"Surely you know who Sephina is?"

Jillian nodded. Sephina was the stunningly beautiful older woman who accompanied the King everywhere. She was some sort of advisor, always standing or sitting off to the side, always within the King's periphery. She rarely spoke or was acknowledged by guests. The Queen ignored her completely.

"She is the King's Sofriquette."

Jillian stared at him blankly, missing the point.

"She serves the King."

"I see. Well, the Prince has plenty of servants and courtiers. I don't see why he needs another one."

He crossed his arms and stared at her as if she was slow witted.

"The Sofriquette has a unique position, one that she alone can fulfill."

"Again, I don't see what this has to do with me."

The advisor smiled and raised his finger. A servant brought over a heavy box and placed it on a table in front of her.

"The Prince is allowed to choose one woman. One, for his entire life. She will be his outlet, providing him with the comfort and ease that no one else can. He has chosen you for this honored position."

"Comfort and ease?"

"Do you know anything of what happens between a man and a woman?"

She shook her head, sneaking a look at the Prince across the room. He was still watching her, an intense look on his face. He looked... hungry again. Ravenous, really. Somebody should bring him something to eat. He was the Prince after all.

"Well, that is the service you are to provide for the Prince. It's of a private nature. You are to be available to him at all times. To refuse any request is considered treason."

Jillian inhaled sharply.
 

"There is no refusal of this position. To do so would mean you and your family would forfeit your lands and your lives."

Her eyes widened. Suddenly it felt difficult to breath.

"But I'm too be married soon!"

The King's advisor simply shook his head and lifted the top of the box. But Jillain wasn't finished yet.

"You expect me to give that up to become his- his-"

She started to stand but one of the guards was suddenly behind her, pressing her shoulders back into the chair.

"Be still."

She looked down. Inside the box was a wide banded necklace- no, it was a collar. It was made of heavy gold and studded with a fortune in jewels. In the front was a small hook from which dangled a gold chain.

She gasped, realizing that a similar collar was worn by Sephina, the King's Sofriquette... he was often seen holding the chain loosely in his hand. Did everyone but her understand what that meant? Had she really been so blind?

"This collar symbolizes your submission to your lord and master."

"Wait-"

She was shaking as he lifted the circlet up and came to stand behind her, lowering the collar around her throat. She swallowed as he slid the lock into place.

"Wait! I- can't I speak to him? Surely he hasn't made his mind up yet."

The lock twisted behind her, sealing with a loud thunk. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of it holding her down. Valspar moved around the chair until he stood in front of her again.

"Actually the choice was made several years ago. He chose to wait until now to claim you."

"Until I was about to be married! He hates me! He's punishing me for-"

"I suggest you lower your voice. You are already the Sofriquette and will be expected to behave accordingly."

He softened his voice, leaning toward her, an earnest look in his eyes.

 
"This is an honorable task that you fulfill. A Prince must not be distracted by unfulfilled lusts or allowed to sow bastards everywhere. You will allow him to be focused on his duties, knowing that you are there to ease him whenever the need arises. You do not serve only him, you serve the nation."

"But he is to be married next year, to the Princess of Haight!"

"Yes, but he did not chose her. He must be allowed one choice, one thing he can have simply for himself, as a man. He chose you."

She lowered her head, tears streaming down her face. The collar was lined in something soft- a silk velvet- but it still felt uncomfortable against her throat.
 

"Punishing you for what?"

She looked up at him. He had a look of curiosity on his face.

"You said before he was punishing you..."

"Nothing. It was nothing."

But it wasn't. They had just been children, the Prince several years older, when she'd bested him in a game. He'd been right behind her, racing through the maze for the prize but her hands and closed on the golden apple first.

He's stared at her, breathing heavily and commanded that she give him the apple. She'd refused. He had smiled coldly at her then, sending shivers down her spine.

This was his answer to that long ago slight. She closed her eyes, knowing her pride and swift legs had brought this fate on her... and her family. She could do nothing to stop his revenge...

Dear god.

"I suggest you dry your tears now. It would be best if no one saw you crying. You will be escorted to your new chambers. Please let the servants know if there is anything you require."

"I require to go home!"

He smiled tightly.

"This is your home now. You best get used to the idea quickly."

The guards grabbed her arms and lifted her, surrounding her as they swept her from the hall. She looked sideways, seeing the Prince as he laughed with his guests. His eyes shifted to her as she passed him, burning into her. He looked triumphant.

Her chamber was spacious and in a special part of the castle she had never seen before. Her room was up a hidden spiral staircase, apparently immediately above the Prince's chamber. It was luxuriously decorated, with a huge bed and soft pillows in front of the fireplace. Everything was oversized and comfortable, even the window seat. She even had a sitting room with a desk that overlooked the gardens.

She looked around the room in a daze as servants bustled around her. They were running a bath in an adjoining chamber she hadn't seen yet. The door closed behind her and she felt a maid's hands removing her gown.
 

"What-"

"We must bathe you Sofiquette, and quickly. There is a banquet tonight and the you must be ready for him before then if at all possible. There is much to do to prepare you."

There was no need to tell her who 'he' was. She held still as they removed her gown and underthings. There were three maids in the room with her, guiding her into the enormous bathing chamber. There was a high padded table to the side as well as a low bench and a cabinet covered with oils and tools she didn't recognize. The tub was set low in the ground, more of a pool than a bathtub. It was carved out of an enormous slab of marble. She'd never seen anything like it.

Her mind was in turmoil as they pushed her toward the water, dunking her under the surface.

"Please stand."

She did as she was asked and they began washing her, soaping her body meticulously. They pressed her under the water again then led her to the bench where she was asked to lay down on her back. They applied a paste to her arms and legs and between her legs. She pulled away when they pressed their fingers to her cleft but they held her firm, one maid slapping the sole of her foot sharply with an iron rod.

"Ow!"

"Be still Sofriquette. You must let us complete our task or you will be punished, as will we."

She held still then, the sole of her foot smarting. The paste they had spread on her tingled on her skin, smelling like burnt sugar. They busied themselves with her hair as they waited for the paste to take effect, trimming her long locks and massaging oil into her scalp. Then they each took a sharp blade and slid it over her skin, removing the paste along with every bit of her body hair.

She held still, the sensation of being hairless disturbing her. They led her back to the bathing pool where she immersed herself again, the water running constantly, replenishing itself so that it was always warm and clean.

She stood as they rubbed a course cream over her skin, polishing it. They dunked her again and finally led her out of the tub to dry her with soft towels. She lay on the table again as they massaged sweet smelling oils into her skin.