moonlit flower

Veronique Delacour. 24. Prostitute by trade. High or low, we are all slaves to our desires.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

camilledubelay }

    Camille was all too familiar with the struggles of a dissatisfied woman. Nothing ever really pleased her when her eyes could look higher and find something even better to have. Had their roles been reversed, Camille too might have asked for more in exchange for her services. Still, she had silently anticipated that her offer would be eagerly accepted. A satchel of Francs was indeed a generous offer, but she was willing to pay or give more for the kind of information she desired. It was imperative that she keep the heel of her foot pressed directly on the necks of the English if she wished to pull support over to the French. Knowing the secret desires of some esteemed Englishman might be just the upper hand she was looking for. First, she would need to dangle a much more valuable prize before the woman.

    “A man at court?” She questioned before resting the goblet in her hand at chest level. She could also understand the desire to capture a man’s attention as she had done the same with Charles. It took but one good gown and a smile to lure him in, though Camille assumed that Veronique desired this man for other reasons than financial. “Surely you know that I cannot grant you a title, madam. My own was given to me as a gift from his Majesty.” Even if she wanted to, Camille could not bestow a title and lands upon a lowborn woman. If Veronique wanted dresses, Camille would have shipment of fabric brought in to craft a number of gowns to fit her slender shape. If she desired diamonds, Camille would open her chests and allow her to choose however many she wanted. “Tell me, what is it that you would like from me? If money is not enough to sway your interests, then perhaps jewels or gowns might suffice.” A small idea had briefly crossed her mind but she wasn’t entirely sure how she or Veronique felt with the idea she was reluctant to consider.

Veronique frowned. She already had dresses and some (modest) jewels. What she wanted was to live openly with Joseph, but for that she would need either an elevated standing at court or some other way of regaining her honor after losing it so joyfully for so long in her chosen profession.

“I-- I know that,” she answered, ducking her head. “Forgive me, I spoke out of turn. Gowns and jewels I have. Perhaps with enough money I may buy my freedom. That is all I can hope for. Even so, I do not think I may be joined to my paramour publicly.”

Before Joseph, she had considered marrying one of her old and wealthy patrons, perhaps one day to inherit his money and set herself up on her own small estate. Now her options had dwindled. Marrying Joseph may in fact have been a mistake, a foolish error in both of their judgment.

“I will consider your offer most carefully,” Veronique assured her.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

Veronique strode through the castle courtyard, a seductive sway to her hips that would suggest that she was looking for clients. She held her hand to her throat, grasping the jewel that hung from a ribbon, a gift from her husband, Joseph. The cold metal against her skin felt like a blessing, a baptism, a way for her to have Joseph with her always, even as her work drew her into the beds of others. But Joseph alone would hold her heart, though many men and women sought her favors.

“I have a hankering for apples today,” she told the person who approached her, her blue eyes raising to the sky which was nearly the same color.

“And I seldom deny myself whatever my appetites demand,” she added with a smirk.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ camilledubelay }

    Her laugh was breathy and unable to be swallowed with the rest of her wine. A loyal lover was exactly what Charles expected her to be for him, but she could never truly be loyal. Camille could be his Maîtresse en titre, the queen of his heart, and Springtide personified, but never loyal. “Only a fool indeed.” Camille answered, bubbly laughter still dusting the fringes of her tone.

    “I have only just realized it, but I have yet to introduce myself to you. I am Camille, Duchesse d'Anjou and the official mistress of the King of France.” A glittering title, one that greedy hands clung to with tight fists but it was not yet her crown jewel. Duchess was merely a step on the ladder to something better, more appropriate, more powerful. “As you can see I am newly arrived from France and quite unfamiliar with many of the English courtiers. Your popularity intrigues me and I am hopeful that you might entertain a kind of side deal with me.” The silver rim of a sculpted goblet met her lips once more as she sipped generously from it.

    "Queen Catherine has welcomed the Valois into her home as a show of good faith, though not all within her household share in her warmth toward my King and his family. As his majesty’s mistress, I too must first think of France and aid those who represent her. I believe that your skill set could be of some use to me.” Placing the decorative goblet onto the end table, Camille stood from her seat and ventured briefly to her vanity to retrieve a deep purple satchel tied together with a white ribbon, “I would like for you to tell me of your sexual encounters with those who appear to be especially dignified. I want to know who they are, and what brings them to the peak of pleasure no matter how lecherous it may be.” Floral damask lightly graced the tiled floor beneath her as she made her way back over to the seated area with the pouch in hand. “You would, of course, be paid quite generously for each update.” She finished, hoping that promise of never-ending pockets would be enough to place the woman firmly on her side.

Veronique had much to consider when she heard this offer. A key expectation of her profession was discretion and secrecy, and she would be betraying her clientele for the sake of some coins and a woman she barely knew. But perhaps if she saved up enough coins she could dispense with her profession altogether, and maybe be a proper wife to Joseph.

Then there was her loyalty to France to consider. She had become an English citizen but her heart would always be with her homeland.

“You can understand that it would take a great deal to get me to abandon my profession’s code of secrecy and discretion,” Veronique said delicately.

“Coins alone may not suffice. There is... a man I want, but one with much standing at court. I do not know if you could help to make me more... attractive as a mate. For that I would consider breaking my silence.”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

“What a shame that would be,” he teased, his eye catching her’s for a brief moment, before he returned his gaze to the dancing couples. Though he wasn’t entirely joking- for Joseph would gladly spend the night with her if she did not want to work tonight.

“I suppose you are free for a quick dance then, if no other man has reserved you for this one?”

“There can be no other man, when you are near me,” she said ingratiatingly, her almond eyes fluttering her lashes. She laughed then, a melodic sound, and took his hand, leading him onto the dance floor.

“How I love to dance. And with my husband, no less,” he mused when the dance brought them close enough to whisper.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ garrick-howard }

His smile grew as Garrick finally landed on who she was behind that mask, reaching out and grabbing at Veronique’s hand, pulling her close to him in his stupor. They were too close now, probably drawing attention but Garrick didn’t care. Every time he saw Veronique, the knight found he was overcome with lust, even moreso now with so much wine in his system. The man was nearly about to take her in his arms right there when he staggered back out of balance.

“You are… a very dangerous one.”, he said softly, or at least he meant to.

“And you are drunk, Monsieur,” Veronique countered, but there was a great deal of affection and warmth in her voice.

“Come, you will make us a spectacle.” Veronique tucked Garrick’s arm under hers, against her body, and led him to the sidelines of the room.

“I have news. I am married,” she told him in an undertone. Her blue eyes watched him for a reaction, and then she continued.

“But my husband is very understanding, about my career and other... attachments.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

[john-neville-blog]

“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti,” Rodrigo said, making the mark of the cross and expecting his partner to do the same. Then he sat more comfortably in the confessional, his eyes fixed straight ahead so he did not compromise his companion’s identity. “Do not worry, I am new to court and do not know any of you well enough to recognise your voices,” he then said, his Italian accent lacing his words. “This is confession, and I do hope that you know how it works. But if you wish to speak of other matters, myself and God are here to advise you.”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

Veronique adjusted her skirts and studied the handsome priest through the barrier with pursed lips. She came to confession as any other, to appear the dutiful Catholic and child of God, but also to amuse herself. Most priests reacted amusingly to her tales of debauchery, sputtering and shaking their heads in fear for her immortal soul.

Veronique reached out to link her fingers through the ornate partition, deciding to give this priest a better show than most.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It  has been three weeks since my last confession. In that time, I have sold my body for earthly gain, I have mocked the sacrament of holy matrimony by marrying my drunken friend, I have fornicated with men other than my husband, and I have taken the Lord’s name in vain many times. Further, Father, when I leave here I will be returning to a brothel for another appointment. I will lay on my back and spread my legs for a nobleman for the sake of a few coins.”

She made her voice slightly breathy as she said all of this, her chest heaving with each word.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

“The dutiful worker, as always,” he teased as his gaze scanned their surroundings in order to see if there was anyone who would recognise them both. “It is business that brings me here too.”

And their worlds were forever shaped by their occupations, yet they managed to fit each other into them. “And has business been successful?”

Veronique raised a hand to her lips, concealing her smile.

“I have not ventured very far into the crowd. I do not have the heart for it tonight. Perhaps I am losing my charms.”

There was mischief in her eyes. She was delighted to see Joseph, since she did not have to try very hard to entice him.

[henri-de-valois-blog]

{{ @fcryourpleasure }}

“I had a strong feeling that I would see you here, wife,” Joseph said, fixing his mask as he turned to face the alluring woman who stood beside him. His face was unexpressive, for he was happy to see her but their complex situation still plagued his mind. “Are you enjoying yourself thus far?”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

Veronique was in a red satin dress decorated with glimmering black beads. Her mask was composed of jet black feathers to match, and her dark hair was swept back with a gold net. She was dressed to charm and impress, but she needn't have costumed herself to catch the attention of her oldest friend.

“Indeed, husband,” she said quietly enough that no one would overhear them. 

“But alas, it is business that brings me out tonight, not pleasure. Courtesans cannot afford to hide when there is opportunity to meet potential clients.”

[sinsual-sirenz]

Hours had passed since Garrick had downed that first sultry goblet, and now the man was quite deep in his cups. For someone who’d walked into the masquerade set on focusing on his worries and not ale, the knight was quick to pick up a pint and drink those worries away. 

He’d been talking with his squire, shameless soaking in every last word of flattery the boy could bestow upon him when someone walking past caught his eye. Garrick turned calling out to the person, “Hey! I know you from somewhere..” 

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

Veronique was bored. These masked balls were tiring when no one wanted to buy her services, and though it was necessary to flirt and mingle to build up her reputation, she would much rather be in her quarters in the brothel, absorbed in a good book.

Her eyes scanned the crowd for anyone who might provide amusement, and they fell on a familiar figure. Her lips curved in a smile. Her favorite knight, well into his cups it seemed. She sauntered closer, affecting a slight sway to her hips.

At his slurred words she had to fight to keep a grin from her face, her lips twisting with the effort.

“I should say so, Ser Howard. We’ve gotten to know each other quite well, haven’t we?”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

His eyes were fixed on hers before he averted his gaze and quietly grunted- a sign of his disgruntlement but acceptance. Then he kissed the finger that was on his lips. Veronique’s words were enough to silence him for now, but he was unsure whether they would silence him forever. She was right- Joseph and Veronique had always got past any hurdle. But he wanted their life together to be as easy as it was to love her.

After they kissed, he smiled but sighed. “So I am to tell no one?” Despite feeling that he knew the answer, he wanted to hear confirmation from her.

Veronique could sense his disappointment, and she wished she had a better answer for him. But their wedding had been forged in secret, on a drunken whim, and it was asking the impossible to have it recognized when they were from two different worlds, only coming together under the cover of darkness in a sanctuary of their own making.

“For now I think it is best. I will await your visits as I always have, with love and ardent expectation.”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ lord-with-ambition }

“I’ll see what I can do when it comes to the dark chocolate.” He replied with a smile. Alden felt that he would be able to get a hold of it. Chocolate might have been for the rich, and Alden certainly had a great deal of good connections.

“Then I will find your products as swiftly as I can, Miss Delacour. Is there anything else you require? As we’ve talked about, I try to make sure that my girls are happy.”

Veronique considered his question but shook her head after only a moment. She had all she needed. Her frequent gifts from clients, especially her beloved Joseph, satisfied all of her tastes for luxury.

“Non, the chocolates will be more than enough. You have my thanks,” she said, nodding.

She glanced up and saw two of the other girls at the other end of the room, giggling and pointing in her direction.

“Oh dear, we’ve given them something to talk about,” she said with amusement.

“Perhaps I should take my leave. Au revoir, Monsieur Parsons.”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ lord-with-ambition }

“Is there a specific type of chocolate that you are looking for? Dark, milk, some enhanced with certain flavors? Spain of course is the leading contender for chocolate trade.” Chocolate was a delicacy for the rich and Veronique being so close to the rich caused her to be able to try it. He was not surprised that she enjoyed it.

“I will look to see what I have left in stock and if I need to order more than I shall make that purchase. The popularity of chocolate is certainly on the rise for all the reasons I am sure that you know.”

Veronique was tantalized by the prospect of gourmet chocolates with flavors; the chocolates she bought in the market were simple and did not boast many variations.

“I like milk chocolate--oh, but if you can find one filled with dark chocolate ganache, that would be divine.”

Veronique’s mouth practically watered at the thought. It was heavenly to feel the chocolate melt on her tongue, a pleasure as sweet to her as any other.

“You would have my gratitude and whatever coins you require.”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

He lowered his gaze, uncertain of how to respond. Love had blinded him that night and he had not properly thought of the consequences. This was everything he ever wanted and he did not regret anything, but it felt like this would be much more difficult  than he had thought. “To live a life of secrecy,” he suggested. “Where no one knows that we are husband and wife. Where we cannot raise a family of our own, or have a house of our own. Where you will continue to sleep with others for their pleasure and I, I whisper sweet words of advice for others’ pleasure. What kind of life is that, Veronique?” But what was the alternative- a life of shame, of constant rumours and whispers surrounding them. Would Veronique suit the life of a married woman and would he suit the life of a married man? “I love you,” he said. But was love enough to protect them?

Veronique’s expression turned soft and fond, and she pressed a gentle finger to Joseph’s lips, silencing his worries.

“And I love you. That is all that matters, non? We have sworn an oath to each other, but it was an oath of our making, not of God’s. We will forge our own way in this life, as we always have, side by side.”

Unable to help herself, she cupped Joseph’s face in her hands and turned his face towards her.

“My own love,” she said warmly, and leaned across the space between them to press her lips to Joseph’s warm, thick ones.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

He quenched his thirst and whilst the water momentarily provided him with some comfort, he found more in looking at her. When she pressed herself against his chest, his fingers placed with her loose dark waves whilst the other hand caressed her bottom lip.

“Madame Moncada,” he repeated, a satisfied smile on his lips. “That does have quite a nice ring to it.” Then his smile suddenly disappeared as reality soon dawned on him. “Will you now refer to yourself as that?” He asked, as many more questions buzzed around his aching head. “To friends… clients.” The concept of Veronique having clients was now more unappealing than ever. She was his wife, and now he felt uncomfortable with sharing her with other men and women who would pay her in return. She would not need to do that anymore, now that Joseph could give her a life of luxury. But would she want to stop?

Veronique frowned at the question, which she had avoided thinking about during her long, sleepless night as much as possible.

“I do not know. Do you intend to tell your friends and others at court that you are married to a prostitute?” she inquired. In this case she would let Joseph’s behavior be her guide. She saw no reason to disrupt her life and trade if Joseph did not intend to do the same.

She took his left hand in hers and raised it to her lips, pressing a kiss to the ring he wore now.

“I love you. I always have. But wouldn’t it hurt you to be known as the noble who married a common whore?”

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

Joseph slept peacefully all night and he was convinced that it was the best sleep he had ever had. His mind was at peace, his burning desire had been satisfied and his heart was content knowing that his wife lay beside him. When she woke him up, he was slightly confused as to where he was. Then as his eyes met hers, he remembered what had taken place last night.Veronique was his wife. He thought about what his family would say, how the Queen would object to him marrying so lowly, the grin on Henry’s face and the look on Isabella’s. But Veronique was his and that was enough to bring a smile to his lips. As he smiled, his hangover decided to attack and he immediately squinted in pain as he reached for his forehead. Whilst he had thought that his sudden marriage to Veronique would bear the greatest consequences, it seemed that his intoxication would actually impact him the most at the moment. “Must we go at this at hour? My head feels like it might explode,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Veronique shot him a disapproving look, almost as if to say, It’s your own fault, you know. But she did take pity on him enough to get out of bed and fetch him a goblet of water.

“Here, drink this,” she told him, kneeling on the edge of the bed and holding the water out to him. She watched while he drank it down, satisfied that he showed no signs of getting sick from it.

She took the empty cup from him and returned it to her table, and then crawled back into bed, pressing herself against his chest.

“I am now Madame Moncada. Did you know that, my love?” she asked, peering up into Joseph’s eyes uncertainly. She hoped that the drugs in his system did not prevent him from remembering their nuptials.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

Joseph could barely concentrate on the priest’s words, as his gaze was fixed on Veronique and Veronique only. Whenever she shot a mischievous glance at him, he would melt inside and grin himself. It was only when she reached into her purse to take out a ribbon that he realised it was time to exchange the rings. Taking the ribbon from her, he sighed as he was annoyed with himself for not bringing one. “It will not be as beautiful as you, but it will be satisfy you,” he said, already having a certain ring in mind. As he tied the ribbon around her finger, he lifted it to his lips and gently kissed it. When the priest glared at him, he returned the hand to her side with a mischievous look on his face. The little ring on his pinky finger made him chuckle, but it was the best thing anyone could have given him.

When they kissed, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to his body. He even twirled her around as his lips were engaged with hers. This kiss was unlike any other, because it was their first kiss as husband and wife.

“I always was,” he murmured against her lips. “And you are mine.” Then he scooped her up in his arms, laughing as he did and looking into her eyes. “Right wife, let’s go then,” he said as he carried her out of the chapel and towards the brothel.

Veronique giggled and pretended to struggle with him, but finally settled down and leaned her forehead against the column of his neck. He stumbled a bit once they were on the street and Veronique insisted he let her down for both of their safety. She looped her arm around his however and walked pressed against his side as they entered the brothel and made their way up the stairs to her bedchamber. Though she had taken hundreds of men to her bed, this would be the first time she took a husband to it, and the thought made her flush with pleasure and nerves.

She helped undress Joseph and tucked him into bed, as lovingly as she would her own child, and then set about undressing herself. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the ribbon tied around her finger and she smiled to herself. She beheld herself in the standing mirror that was near the small window and thought how happy she was now, married to the love of her life.

When she turned back to get into bed she was annoyed to see that Joseph was already asleep, passed out and spread across her bed like he had no intention of being joined by anyone else. She lifted his arm gently and lowered herself onto the bed, but it was a night of some discomfort as she was laying on the edge of the bed with Joseph’s arm resting over her chest.

She hardly slept that night, her mind turning over what they had done and the implications it might have for both of their careers. When the sun rose through the window she finally decided to shake Joseph’s shoulder until he awoke.

“My love, wake up. We have to go ring shopping today,” she said with a smile.

[fcryourpleasure-blog]

{ joseph-moncada }

He tried not to smile beneath their kiss, as it made it more difficult to plant his lips on hers. Jospeh could not help it, the happiness that engulfed him was evident on his face. His conversations with Isabella about achieving happiness had made him more anxious to be happy and not be a slave to the conventions of the court. He gave every waking moment of his working life to the maintenance of England and its court. He worked tirelessly to ensure good relations existed not only between England and Spain, but between England and the world. It was time for England to repay him, and allow him this happiness.

He dreamily allowed himself to be tugged to the chapel, as moving with her felt as easy as breathing. As she knocked on the door of the priest’s chamber, Joseph quickly splashed some water on his face so he could convince the priest that he was in perfect condition. It was only afterwards that he released he had used holy water from the holy water font to wash his face, something he imagined the priest would not be too happy about and so he quickly dried his face on his tunic.

As the priest left to make himself ready, Joseph took Veronique by the hand. “I will be paying you back, whether you like it or not,” he said with a smile. “When you are my wife.” After a few moments of waiting, the priest returned, dressed in his attire and a Bible in his grasp. Joseph took his position, but then realised that they needed a witness. Someone who could confirm their marriage, if it ever needed to be confirmed. Having told Veronique his intentions, he quickly left the chapel and returned with a young boy he found from the streets. Once he placed a few coins in the boy’s hand, the boy shrugged and sat down on one of the benches near the front of the chapel.

Veronique was a woman with a practical nature, but as she had revealed to Greer at the summer palace, she did have a romantic side as well. And she felt now like any blushing bride who had ever lived, excitement and tremulous pleasure filling her as she took her place at the front of the chapel next to Joseph.

The priest still showed signs of being half-asleep but he discharged his duty as well as could be expected at that late hour, reading from the Bible and reciting the words of the service with only the occasional yawn. Every time he did so Veronique darted a mischievous glance in Joseph’s direction. When it came time to exchange rings Veronique fished in her purse for a ribbon and handed it to Joseph so he could tie it around her third finger.

“You owe me a real one tomorrow,” she said under her breathe. For Joseph’s ring she gave him one of hers, but it only fit his pinky finger.

The priest said those final blessed words, “You may kiss the bride,” and Veronique melted into her husband’s arms, throwing her own around his neck as they came together in spectacular kiss.

The priest said a few words of congratulations and provided them with a document to sign before shuffling off with another yawn. Veronique carefully folded the contract and tucked it away before pulling her husband to her for another lingering kiss.

“You are mine now, Joseph Moncada,” she murmured, raising her head so that her nose brushed his.