Keys to the Kingdom (11 page)

"Fair enough," Kier said, and the brothers ordered the princess back to the suite as Kier escorted Luna to the bottom step where Ivan took a seat.

He gave her no time to object as he pulled her over his lap.

"You found my weakness, Luna," he said. "My pride. It is no secret that a man's pride is his vulnerable spot. Yours, however...."

He flipped up her skirts as she squealed in indignation.

"...is your tender bottom."

And a fine bottom it was - small, pert and flawless with the same peaches and cream tone as her skin. Soon enough, though, Prince Ivan's punishing hand turned it as red as the prized raspberries that had earlier graced her plate.

Over his knee, poor Princess Luna wailed pathetically as her suitor's determined hand smacked first one firm buttock and then another.

"No, my prince! I beg of you!" she cried, attempting to twist off his lap as her shapely legs kicked in a futile effort to shake away the building pain. But it was to no avail. Prince Ivan concentrated his spanks on the soft under curve of her cheeks, making certain that his princess would not sit for days hence without thinking of what she had done, and how he had made her pay.

"Are you going to remain willful and mischievous?" he asked.

"No!" she cried.

"Are you prepared to obey me!"

"Yes!" she wailed. "But as a beloved partner, not as a mindless broodmare!"

His hand stopped in mid swing.

"Whoever said I wanted a mindless broodmare?" he asked.

"You did!" she sobbed. "You said I only needed to be pretty and bear sons."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Oh," he said. "That. Well, I said that because I thought it expected of me, but I'll leave the vapid women to other men. I like a bit of spice if truth be told. But not so much that it bitters the dish."

He raised his hand and began to spank her again. "And I prefer that dish without butter, thank you!"

"OW! OW! OW!" she cried, and at the top of the stairs even the princes winced as new handprints bloomed on Luna's pretty bottom.

"All right!" she sobbed. "I shall never do that again either. Please, Ivan! I beg of you! Please show mercy. I will be good and true and obedient - at least as obedient as I can be! I promise!"

He stopped finally, his eyes surveying what his hand had wrought. Satisfied that Luna was well-spanked, he tipped her off his lap and stood, raising her up with him.

"Do not think that should you fail me I will hesitate to do this again," he said.

"I understand!" she cried.

"Well done." From the top of the stairs, Kier was smiling and Ivan's brothers were looking on as well, nodding admirably.

"A fine showing of leadership if I do say so myself," said Justin. "You should know, Ivan, that yours marks the fourth success."

"Which leaves only..." Ivan said.

Quentin nodded. "Just one more," he said. "One more princess to be tamed before we take over the kingdom."

Chapter Eight

Leo and Lark

If the other daughters of King Elgar had been vexed by their situations, the youngest was curiously calm. For her potential husband, this presented its own problem. A raging tantrum he could handle with another spanking, but how was he to deal with a princess who sat smugly ignoring him just inches away.

"It is time for us to discuss our marriage, and what shall be expected of you," Prince Leo said firmly.

Princess Lark looked up from where she'd been examining a little china dog and thinking how she must ask her father to buy her another and scowled, for she did not appreciate being forced to think on anything other than acquiring more pretty things.

"Don't be silly," she said. "I'm not marrying you."

Her tone was so casual and certain that the youngest son of Randor was instantly irritated.

"And how do you know this to be so?" he asked.

"Because my father will not force me to do something I do not want," she said. "Especially marry a silly young man who is without means. I am used to fine things, and will only marry a man who can provide me what my heart desires."

Prince Leo stood there, considering the slight.

"I will not be without means," he said defensively. "When my brothers and I are married to you and your sisters, we shall inherit the kingdom. And there are riches here enough to keep you neck deep in gifts."

She rolled her eyes, and then fixed him with a look one might give a child slow to understanding.

"Riches enough perhaps," she said. "But a wealthy husband would only add more to my father's wealth, and assure me even more fine things than my father's money alone can buy. A prince from another, exotic land could give me gifts I've yet to even discover I want?" Can a young, poor prince such as you do that? I think not, sir."

Prince Leo felt his face redden. As the youngest he'd long sought to establish himself, to be taken seriously by siblings who sometimes still treated him as a lad, even though he was a tall, strapping young man. And now this woman was reminding him not only of his youth, but that anything he ever hoped to have he would only acquire through marriage to her.

Part of him wanted to pull her across his lap, lift her fine skirt and spank her pretty round bottom again. It had not been an unpleasant experience; not at all. And the girl deserved it. But intuition told him otherwise. Lark was spoiled, and while she needed to be taught that she could not have everything she wanted, the best way to win her heart until he could train her would be to offer her something that she truly wanted - something only he could give.

He went and sat down beside her on the window seat.

"Come now, Princess Lark," he said. "What is it you could possibly want? You've got more fine dresses than any princess I've ever seen, jewels and baubles, a stable full of fine ponies...What is it that you do not have?"

She rolled her eyes. "How will I know until I find a prince from an exotic clime who can show me treasures I have never laid eyes on."

"So there is nothing close to home that you pine for?"

Lark put down her little china dog and crossed her arms as she stared thoughtfully out the window. Her pretty brow furrowed, for she was not used to thinking of what she might want. Usually all she had to do was see something and demand it and it was hers.

Then she brightened.

"There is something!" she said, her voice excited. Her face lit up, making it more beautiful.

"But you probably could not get it for me..." Her smile faded. She was still beautiful just the same.

"My beautiful Lark, I would give you anything you wanted to prove what a devoted and loving husband I would be. I am sworn to give you your heart's desire if you will only be my wife. Tell me - what is it you want?"

She sighed. "It is the only thing my father has ever denied me, but not because he wanted to. It is a bird, a bird that sings every morning on the castle grounds. It is elusive. We hear it often but I have only seen it a handful of times when I was small. It is the most beautiful of all birds! It is sapphire blue, with a tail that is all the colors of the rainbow. It has a jaunty white circle around its little black eye that makes it look perpetually surprised! Its beak and feet are the most amazing shade of yellow."

She clapped her hand together at the memory. "If I could just have that bird in a cage in my room, I could enjoy its song each and every day and it would be the finest thing!"

"A bird? That is all it would take?" Prince Leo could not believe his good fortune. "That should be easy enough."

"Oh, it is not, I assure you. If it were easy then my father would have already captured it for me long ago," Lark said with a sad sigh. "No, this bird is crafty and elusive. As soon as the morning sun is full across the grounds, this bird takes to the woods and has proven impossible to catch, for it goes deep into the darkest part of the forest where the average men dare to follow."

Prince Leo stood and puffed his chest out proudly. "I am no average man, Princess Lark. I am Prince Leo of Randor, son of the late King Salazar. I shall fetch you this bird you desire, my dear. And when I do please accept it a symbol of my promise to build upon the wealth my father bestows upon us all when we marry."

Princess Lark stood, clapping her little hands together again.

"Don't be too hasty in thinking you have my hand," she said. "But you are closer. If you get this bird for me then I will indeed consider that you are true, and I will marry you then!"

Prince Leo smiled broadly. He could not wait to tell his brothers his good fortune and imagined bringing back the bird and giving to Lark, who would reward him with the sweetest of virgin kisses before taking his arm and strolling from the quarters. He imagined his brothers asking, "How did you win her so easily?" He imagined himself smiling and saying, "It's not so hard when you have a way with women...."

He could hardly sleep that night for the excitement. He'd heard the bird outside the castle and planned to be outside before dawn, where he could stealthily track the creature and capture it before it made its getaway into the woods. Leo was an excellent hunter; how hard could it be to catch one silly bird, especially for a man who had brought down stags and wolves in hunts on his own land since he was a lad.

He fashioned a net from some thin rope he got from one of the stable hands, and readied a sack. That night he slept fitfully and was out before first light crept across the castle grounds. When the sky just began to show a tinge of pink, Leo heard the first strains of the bird's song. Lark was right; it was the most beautiful of melodies, and he could understand why she wanted it. He followed the sounds, moving from one topiary to another until he came to a grove of pomegranate trees.

And there it was.

It was still early dawn and light was not fully up, so he could only see the bird in silhouette. Its head was thrown back and its throat vibrated as it warbled out the notes that filled the dawning morning around it.

Leo walked quietly, net at the ready. The sack was tucked into the belt at his side. As soon as he captured the bird he would put it in the sack. What a fine thing it would be to have it back to Lark by the time she awoke. Perhaps she would reward him with more than a kiss. Perhaps she would allow his hands to roam her tiny waist, to grace the swell over her shapely hips...

He was twenty yards away now. He walked quietly, quietly.

Ten yards.

Seven, six, five, four...

He raised the net. The bird was just above his head, a black, singing silhouette.

Three, two..

SNAP!

He looked down for a split second to see he's stepped on a windfall branch. When he looked up again, the silhouette of the bird was zooming across the garden. With a curse he took off after it, keeping his eyes trained on it in the growing light. It landed in a pear tree and cocked its head, its black eye now visible in the ring of white.

"Here, little birdie!" he cajoled. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a piece of dry bread and crumbled it on the ground and stood back and waited. Perhaps the bird would come down, but instead it only plucked at a ripe pear. Leo frowned. If only he'd have thought to bring fruit to entice it, but what fruit could he offer it when everything the bird needed was already here?

The bird, Leo mused, was like the spoiled princesses. Their father, through his indulgence, had set the bar too high for any potential husband to breach. What fruit could any hunter offer when there was a feast before them every day? He would indulge Lark, he told himself, but he would also teach her restraint and appreciation for things that were not gained by the work of others.

He could remember a time, before his father died, when he and his brother had been much like the princesses. They had everything they wanted, too, and it never occurred to them how hunger and want can make a piece of bread seem like a banquet, how the shelter of a cave when a cave is needed can be as comforting as a palace. Tragedy had been their disciplinarian. He would never want to see Lark shaped by tragedy and was more than happy to provide her the needed guidance instead.

But first he had to catch the bird.

He approached the pear tree, but now the bird was onto him. Each time he got closer, it flitted to a branch just outside of reach of his net. It always seemed tantalizingly close, but never close enough to catch.

Leo's frustration grew as the bird continued to move away, and his anxiety increased when he looked up and realized they were nearing the wood. The bird cocked its head and flicked its tail. The wretched thing was toying with him! It was enjoying the chase and making a game of it. Again, like the princess. But he would catch them both and when he did they would find themselves singing a different tune.

He raised the net. He had the thing now; he could feel it. But just as he brought the net down the bird shot from the tree and into the forest.

The chase was on. Leo set his jaw as he ran, keeping his eye on the little bird that weaved through the trees. The edge of the forest was not thick with undergrowth and Leo was in good shape. He ran along through the dappled light of the forest, his focus locked on the bird. He ran fast, his net at his side. He jumped logs, splashed through shallow forest pools. So intent was he on the hunt that he did not realize that the light was fading as trees thickened. Soon he was in an ancient wood where the towering trees blocked most of the sun. He could hear the bird, but could not see it. The thing sounded unusually cheery.