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Honeysuckle; Bonds of Love - Lee Felix

characters: sub! (top!) felix x domme! (bottom!) reader

cw/tw: accidental voyeurism on fefes part, internal battle between desire and royal duties/masculinity etc, mention of wax play, bondage and restraints, insane reader (as always), corruption kink, cunnilingus, choking, marking, multiple orgasms, aftercare,, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it mfs)

a/n: Royalty AU! inspired by those prince-ly pics fefe posted ages ago, this shit had me googling stuff like "when were mirrors invented" LMAOAOA BYEE, reader is also so teasing and mean but secretly soft for fefe (no this isn't a self insert ahahahahha...), circa 18.5k words

dedicated to @astraystayyh and @subskz

this is also my contribution and thanks in honor of Sahar's fundraiser, donate here if you can or reblog and spread the word to fellow stays! my commissions are open only to donators <3

some notes for the story:

Askain - Prince Felix' Home

Oswen - neighboring Kingdom where the Princess and Lady-in-Waiting come from

“...Come again?”

“A ghost, Your Highness. It seems that a rumor has been circling inside the palace about a ghost haunting the halls, late at night.” Felix’ attendant, Sir Bang, the man he’s known all his life, gently sets the porcelain teacup down on the table, right in front of the young prince. He carefully turns the little saucer plate until the handle faces to the right side, readied for him. Then he takes two steps back, backing away politely, turning the tray in his hands, holding it almost like a shield in front of his body, while he waits for Felix to answer.

Felix meanwhile gracefully removes his white silk gloves, inquiring further, ”How did this rumor come to be?", he sets them down in his lap and covers them with a serviette. Putting one finger through the handle he brings up the still steamy teacup. In his well-trained manner he takes a sip of the still hot beverage in the intricately designed cup. Meanwhile his attendant speaks up again: “Well… at first we received a report from one of the maids, who then went on to one of the chamberlains. It would seem that she heard a sort of faint hissing, well into the night might I add. Then, a few of the knights who were sent to investigate, reported and thus confirmed the haunting moans and wails.”

Even the knights? He quietly stares into the reflection of his own concerned gaze in the hot tea.

Currently seated in the palace gardens, in the cool shade of the big gazebo, his eyes wander up the wooden beams as a soft breeze caresses his cheeks gently. Closing his eyes for just a brief moment he basks in the gentle wind. Refreshed and comforted he opens his eyes slowly. Just across the round table with its many plates and trays, sits his mother, in all of her royal glory. He finds himself smiling at her without thinking. As always, she’s dressed in her best dresses, clothed in only the finest of fabrics. Of course. It is most fitting for the season. He’s got much to learn from her still. She mirrors his gentle smile once she sets the cup down, choosing a pastry from one of the many silver trays laid out in front of the two with unquestioned grace. Her hairdo sways slightly in the wind, her hair ornament catching a stray sunbeam, blinding him but only slightly. He tries not to squint too much, subtly shifting to the side.

He's still very thankful that his busy mother finds the time to spend this weekly high tea with him, it’s become a near and dear tradition for them. Their talks often go on for a long time, longer than intended - often angering her personal secretary. Sir Hwang would usher his mother along, listing all the things waiting for her in her working office. He could only watch and bid his mother farewell for the day, knowing he would most likely not see her until another day breaks. While standing alone in the palace gardens… It is only sometimes that he wishes for his father to extend the same kindness upon him.

He finally turns to the attendant, done thinking, and speaks up, selecting his words with care. “Is there anyone else investigating this matter further? Have they found the cause for those… peculiar sounds?”

The attendant clears his throat quickly before answering. “I am afraid not Your Highness… it seems that even the knights are a little afraid of this ‘ghost’.” Looking back and forth between him and his mother, his unreadable eyes ultimately stay on her, “Your Majesty.” He simply states her title but it does sound inquisitive.

She holds his gaze for a few seconds, a neutral look about her, until she smiles and gestures slowly, stretching her fingers one by one until her open palm faces him and nods slowly - for him to keep talking - and so he does. She curls her fingers back and places them politely in her lap. “I am afraid this debacle might scare our dear guests from Oswen. As you and I both know,” He quickly glances over to Felix then back to his mother, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Lulëza, does not take kindly to the… other-worldly.”

His mother listens intently, nodding gracefully, until he’s finished and her lips finally curl upwards into a scheming smile, paired with a glint in her eyes. Felix knows that look, he knows it all too well. She would not dare…

Interrupting his train of thought his mother states, “Please do not worry. For I am sure our Prince Felix here,” she nods in his direction swiftly, again with unquestioned grace, “would be more than willing to assist in this matter.” Ending her sentence with a satisfied smile, she quickly takes a bite and delights herself over the sweet cream inside the pastries. They were made specifically for them after all. He should remember to thank the chef for the wonderful treats later.

But of course. Felix can’t interject, it would be a slight against his own mother - Her Majesty. It might even be considered treason at that point. She’s seemingly very keen on making him suffer, knowing full well that he dislikes wandering the halls at night. He’s not scared of it, not at all… but he does not care for ghosts and similar arcane happenings. At least that’s what he tells himself. His gaze flickers between the two people in front of him, and they both give a knowing smile back; they seem to be in delight. And it seems like there is no way out of this predicament.

He tries not to sound too dejected when he agrees to help the royal guards and investigate this matter personally. Right when he finishes his reluctant agreement, he spots a familiar face in the distance, wandering around the palace garden, accompanied by her Lady-in-Waiting. The foreign visitor - Princess Lulëza, makes her way through the unfamiliar area, exploring the castle and its grounds. Once the royal family duo has been spotted, they brush their clothes off and only Felix stands up while his mother stays seated, ready to greet the guests for today.

It's not possible… it simply can not be. His ears must be deceiving him. A shiver runs down his spine, all the way down his legs, making goosebumps rise on his skin. He can't move. Clutching the oil lamp in his hand tighter, he listens closer to the darkened hallway stretching out to impossible lengths in front of him. Suddenly he regrets doing this alone. At the end of this dim hallway, a muffled and pained moan could be heard. It truly is a ghost.

He unwillingly sets down the lamp in the hallway. Much to his own dismay. After all he would rather not be caught immediately by this spirit. The need to run away, the instinct to hide, to forget about this all sits deep within his body, settling into his bones. Yet… he can’t shake the picture of his mother earlier today, enjoying high tea with him, even with the workload waiting for her in her chancery. He cannot let anyone or anything harm her, not if he can stop it somehow. And as the prince and future king of the Askain nation, he must not waver when faced with a challenge. For his people, for his future subjects. But especially the ones he holds close to his heart.

With newfound bravery, he tiptoes over to the door at the end of the hall. Closer to the wooden door. He can finally hear the voice clearer… and it makes shivers run down his legs again, making him freeze in place.

“...hurts…”

He can only make out those words from behind the closed wooden door. Is it a vengeful spirit? Pressing his back against the wall he creeps closer, until he’s right at the door, and he leans in closer.

“...no… no more…. please…”

Those words make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Is it… in pain? Is this a sort of… wailing phantom? Perhaps it isn’t vengeful… just… feeling sorrow or regret?

Overcome with surprising empathy for this supernatural being, seemingly in pain, he decides to slowly and carefully crack open the door. If he can convince this spirit to leave after comforting it… if that’s all it takes, he'd welcome it with open arms.

Inside the dimly lit room he can make out a silhouette of what seems to be a womanly figure, standing with her back to the door, standing in the middle of the room. Is that the spirit or perhaps a victim? Opening it a little further, he spots the candles, all set on the floor. Did the spirit light them? He peeks even further inside, spotting a second figure… and suddenly flinches when the old wooden door gives a nasty and piercing creak.

The seemingly female spirit suddenly turns her upper body towards the entrance, revealing the second figure further, fully disrobed inside the room, kneeling between the candles.

That’s-

Faster than his mind can catch up to the sight before him, and faster than the spirit can cross the room to get to the door, Felix finds himself already sprinting down the hallway, back to the familiar safety. A faint clinking sound right behind him makes him jump and increase his speed further.

Running for his life, the dark hallway walls turn into one big blur going past him. He doesn’t even realize he’s still left his lamp until he’s leaping down the stairs to the lower floors. Too late to turn back now. Arriving outside he runs on the gravel path, the stones crunching loudly underneath his shoes. He doesn’t look back once.

Arriving in his private chambers, he winces internally at the way the guards and maids looked at him while he ran past. Not wanting to alert them for now, he waved them off. Practically flying past them. He groans in embarrassment at his impulsive decision and slides down the door to his bedroom slowly. He catches his breath. Finally time to come to his senses.

He pants deeply from the exertion, feeling the beat of his heart in his ears. Felix… knew that man! It is none other than the Captain of the Royal Knights, Sir Seo. His own chest feels tight. The previous heaving now comes to a slower, calmer rhythm. Now, in the silence, in the aftermath of adrenaline coursing through his veins, now he finally can start to think about what he just saw.

What’s…. going on here?

Rather… he knows what he saw. He just can't quite wrap his head around it just yet. White, almost transparent, splatters all over Sir Seo’s muscular body. Candles lighting up the room faintly. Sir Seo kept his hands behind his back for some reason.

What were they doing?

And why did it seem like - even though his Guard cried out in pain - that he was… enjoying it?

Felix feels his face grow hot from shame, sinking further down the door as the droplets of sweat run down his temples. He lowers himself into the cold floor that will hopefully cool him down.

The very next day a red vase was brought into his private chambers, carried by a servant of Oswen. Unable or not willing to tell him who sent the flowers. Not wanting to push this servant and cause any offense to the esteemed guests, he lets it go. He won't push the issue. For he has already been taught by his mother in preparation of the foreign visit, about the messaging in receiving flowers from guests. Oswen citizens have the tendency to send messages via an old tradition of “Flower Language”. Going through the steps in his head, he makes sure to look at the types of flowers that were sent. So Felix turns the red vase carefully. Belladonne, Begonia. Ordering one of his maids to please get him a book from his father’s vast library, he flips through the pages.

Silence. Beware.

It does not take long for him to get the message. In fact it couldn’t be any clearer.

So that was no ghost afterall. That woman - from that night, she must have sent the flowers. Felix knows all too well the dangers of rumors regarding promiscuity, it could tear families apart. Especially the women of the high court were looked down upon… plenty of ladies fall victim to these tactics and strategies each season. What awaits them is not only social persecution… He doesn’t wish to cause any harm, or rock the boat in these very important trade agreements between nations.

So, that Oswen servant is called back inside his chamber. Soon enough a simple bouquet of daisies arrives at the temporary Oswen residence, into the chambers of the mystery sender.

Daisies; I’ll never tell.

Felix closes the book and leaves it in his private chambers. Going on to inform his Mother about his findings about last night, leaving out some major details, of course. Making up a few white lies here and there, using vague words on purpose. It seems like he did it convincingly enough, because soon another investigation was initiated, led by the Royal Guard personally. He could not bring himself to look the captain in the eye, when he passed him and his fellow guards walking down the hall. Neither of the young men seemed to mind.

A few days have passed since then; nothing significant came up. In the end, the report stated that the sounds must have come from an old creaky door. It shall be replaced soon.

He sighs as he hands the report back to his attendant, leaning back against the soft cushions of his chair. Leaning his head back and looking up at the beautifully crafted carvings on his ceiling, wonderful art, but it does little to calm him down. Inner unrest, uneasiness and anxiety make their way underneath his skin. Settling there and showing no signs that they’ll leave any time soon…

Until… a tiny vase is placed in front of him, a single white Camellia standing loud and proud from it.

Reaching for and flipping through the still unfamiliar book that was placed nearby, he finds the answer he is looking for. He hides his face in his hands as his face grows hotter by the second.

Camellia, white; You’re adorable

He lets his attendants and maids button up his white jacket, draping the white brocade cape over his shoulders, fastening it in place with golden brooches; they are made to closely resemble the Lee family crest. He’s heard a few whispers between the maids, about the fact that a brooch has been missing, the rumor quickly spreading that someone dared to steal from the beloved and kind prince. Not correcting them, he keeps the fact that he’s simply lost it to himself, for now at least. It’s not like there was a shortage of brooches around.

A larger brooch - insignia would be a better description - is attached to the breast pocket of his jacket. Being brought to the mirror, he twists and turns slightly, just to make sure everything is right. Even eyeing the Camellia he placed on his nightstand secretly. Collar around his neck suddenly felt a little tight. Well… He wouldn’t want to disappoint his parents and shun their family reputation. After all, this evening is very important to them. In order to improve the relationship between Askain, his beloved home, and the neighboring kingdom Oswen, his parents have planned a big ball; an aftermath to the welcoming banquet that was held three nights ago. And he does enjoy his dancing lessons. Very much so. However, as the eldest - and only - son he will have to set an example tonight and dance with Princess Lulëza. The crushing weight of the pressure is nothing… nothing to him at all. With a shaky breath he asks the servants for a handkerchief to wipe his sweaty hands with. They bring it to him with haste.

So, when his arrival at the ballroom is proudly announced, he carefully and graciously steps inside, making sure to courteously greet the many guests that have been invited. Bowing deeply for his parents, sitting nearby, having a good overview from their elevated thrones. Over the course of time Felix subtly shifted his position from the middle of the room by the entrance, over to the side, where the counter with appetizers would be. He’ll need at least something in his stomach, before he steps out and has to elegantly twirl around with the respectable princess. A glass of wine would not be objected to either.

Nodding absentmindedly while the well-known Earl Andrew Tatteum talks his ear off, he asks a waiter to pour him a glass of red wine. Well-known is the man next to him, however not for his good qualities of exceptional talents - he was a madman that the ton tolerates. Barely. Felix has done this many times before, and it is not the first time this particular wretched man has bothered him with his endless ramblings on “the state of ladies today” and their “foul wickedness with no bounds”. Felix cannot even begin to talk about his disdain for the Earl’s ‘creative and ceaseless business endeavors’.

To everyone in attendance, he is the eldest son of the Lee family, enjoying the wonderful ball his parents have planned. Inside of his own mind he’s not even listening to anyone really, however rude that may be, but the court would be none the wiser when he smiles at them. They do not really care after all. No, instead his busy mind is preoccupied with that mysterious woman - or ghost, from that fateful night. That silhouette was oh-so awfully familiar to him, he just can’t quite put his finger on it…

Several days after that incident - after the report and its conclusion returned, he kept a close eye on the ladies gathered in the palace. He doesn’t know why, but the need to understand and know tugs at him; it drives him to behave in this way. Eyeing the women around the palace just to find one with that familiar stature and poise. Hopefully it didn’t cause any rumors to spread about him. He obviously tried not to make it too obvious that he was staring, that would be incredibly rude!

Unable to think with this gentleman… with this Earl’s nauseating breath wafting over to him like a cloud of suffocating smoke, he quickly moves his eyes around the room, until he spots a familiar face. Excusing himself with a forced smile as he moves away with haste, leaving the detestable wretch of a man to his own devices. Felix even evades his drunken attempt to grab onto him with swift ease. Perhaps he should thank Captain Seo for all those training sessions under the scorching summer sun.

Stepping through the people gathered, he smoothes out the wrinkles in his attire, some notice him and his costly clothes and they quickly make way for the Crown Prince. He comes to a stop before Princess Lulëza, hiding the lower part of her face with an elegant light blue fan. He politely bows and stretches out a hand to her.

“Your Royal Highness, may I have the honor of having your first dance?” He still asks, despite knowing their prior agreement. His name has been put on her dance card already - and it’s all for show anyway. The attendees all stare and wait with bated breaths behind their ornate garments and gaudy accessories. He swears he can almost see their ruffled feathers tremble. The princess pretends to think with a long hum while closing her fan. Then after a short pause she touches her right cheek with the leaves of her fan. Answering his question with a bow of her own. “Yes, I would be delighted to.” He takes her hand and they glide over towards the dance floor.

Dancing in front of everyone in attendance was no easy feat, scrutinizing eyes trained on the two young royals like hawks. Felix still enjoys the satisfaction and joy of moving his body according to the symphony and each change in melody. Each instrument comes together to create wonderful tunes and melodies for them to dance to. His white cape, golden patterns woven into the fabric, flies and flows behind him while the two young royals from different nations twirl around. He counts each step in his head, holding out their intertwined hands while they glide around the tiles. His other hand is firmly placed on her back, feeling the fabric underneath his palm. His palm must be a little sweaty, he hopes she won’t be able to feel it. But they keep at it. He secretly wonders how the princess manages to dance with so much fabric draped over her.

Being the only pair on the prepared dance floor, indicated by the differently coloured tiles, there is even more pressure to perform well. He manages to catch the eyes of not only his parents but the King and Queen of Oswen as well. It seems that the King isn’t all too happy, seeing his daughter dance with the Prince of a foreign nation. Felix does his best not to move his hands too carelessly. He wouldn’t want this to become a diplomatic issue of some kind. He still has a duty to uphold for his parents.

A step forward, past her wide dress. A step backwards, to his original position. He lifts her arm over her as she twirls slowly, light blue fabric cascading around her in a romantic display. To any onlookers they might even be mistaken as lovers. Following the predetermined dance composition, he moves around the room. Shoes clicking against the tiles. Her dainty hand on his bicep feels ironically heavy, securely grabbing onto him. He keeps guiding the Princess in a determined way, as if it were second nature to him. Some might describe it as graceful. Flawless even.

It had to be.

The music slowly comes to an end. ‘The melody returns back home’, as his mother would always say. A brush against his ear sends a shiver down his spine. Nearly tripping, he manages to catch himself and desperately prays that no one noticed the slight stutter. The more pressing issue is the question being whispered against his ear. “Did His Royal Highness like the flowers?”

The… flowers?

He parts from her abruptly, just a short distance. Standing up straighter than before, and he looks into her eyes as if to look for the answer. The chandelier is reflected in her green eyes, it nearly takes his breath away. But before he could ask, she tugs at him, conveying the message with a quick sideways glance of her eyes. Right, they should continue. And so he does. But the questions, increasing in volume, still plague his mind.

When they finally finish and bow deeply, he spots the proud expressions on his parents' faces. They smile kindly upon him as if to say ‘Well done. That’s our son!’. His smile can’t get any bigger. While basking in the affection, he doesn’t even notice that Lulëza has slipped away. Looking down to his right, the young lady is nowhere to be found. How does one just… lose a Princess? He looks up and around the room, scanning the faces around for any sign of her. He looks back up at his parents, sitting on their elevated thrones, overseeing the ballroom. His father doesn’t seem to realize what his son is silently trying to ask of him, but his mother does. As always. She secretly points behind her son, quickly taking the attention off of him with a loving kiss to his father.

Amongst the hushed whispers that increase in volume, he turns on his heel, quickly manages to spot the tiniest glimpse of fabric disappearing behind a door. Those doors lead to the balcony. And that fabric had the exact pattern worn by the foreign Princess. He needs to get to her. There’s no other way. If she sent those flowers then… If that was really her, that eventful night… He needs to talk to her, ask her directly. As if pushed by an invisible hand he starts making his way through the people slowly starting to gather around him. Politely and strategically pushing past. From mothers trying to play cupid for their daughters, to the wretched Earl, they all want to flock to him. He manages to reach the balcony. Somehow. The guards notice and quickly cross their spears over the entry behind him, and soon enough the small crowd loses their interest, walking away and turning their attention to matters inside of the ballroom.

Catching his breath slightly, he steps out into the cool night to find… nobody.

Where…

The balcony offers no hiding place! He walks out further, closer to the marble railing. Frustrated, he runs a hand through his hair, uncaring if it messes up the work of his loyal attendants.

Where did she go?

“Looking for Princess Lulëza, Your Royal Highness?” A voice calls out right behind him.

He jumps and swiftly turns around in one swift motion, barely holding onto the marble railing behind him. There, next to the open doors leading to the balcony area, a lady stands with her hands behind her back, hidden out of sight from anyone looking out. She’s wearing light blue, similar in tone of color to the Princess. It is a simpler dress - but still eye-catching nonetheless.

She is… quite beautiful.

Keeping her distance, she does not make any move to come closer. Does not bow. But her expression slowly fades from a questioning gaze to a confused squint. She is eyeing him suspiciously now. Quite bold, considering his status. Not many people dare to glare at him from so close, especially right to his face. Catching his breath after being caught off guard, he picks himself up, standing upright and finally answers. “Right… Yes, I am. Have you seen her?” He glances away, just beyond her figure, to the nobles still chattering away carelessly in the ballroom, “There is something I must know. I need to ask her. It’s… very important.” He tries to keep his voice down.

“...Right...” The unknown Lady trails off, clearly not believing him, “Well, I’m afraid you won't find her anymore,” Her eyebrows furrow and her gaze falls to the floor near his feet, “not tonight at least.”

The question leaves his lips, before he can stop it. “Why?”

“None of your concern,” She fires back, “...Your Royal Highness.” Attempting to correct herself even quicker. Then she sighs, finally stepping closer towards him. He tries to take another step back instinctively, but his lower back meets the railing right behind him. Only able to watch silently as this mysterious lady makes her way over to his side. Each step feels slower than the last.

A dainty handkerchief is brought out from behind her back and held out to him, folded in a way to indicate that it's holding something inside. After hesitating she moves it even closer to him, wordlessly prompting him to finally take it. So impatient. Then after her hands are freed, she leans on the railing right next to him. Refusing to look at him directly. And time seems to have come to a standstill. Is it… a gift? Felix doesn’t know what to say, so he carefully places the soft handkerchief into his other gloved palm, hesitating again. Should he even open it? He feels the tiniest weight hidden inside the white fabric. Should he really open and see it? This lady seems awfully familiar too. Should he just go back inside? Would that be rude? Is she a guest from Oswen? What if this is something dangerous? Is his personal attendant around? What-

“It’s yours,” She states matter-of-factly, “I figured that I should return it to its rightful owner, no?” Not even turning her head, her eyes tear themselves from the starry night sky to his worried expression. Side-eyeing him with the tiniest gaze of curiosity shimmering in her eyes.

He schools his face into a more neutral state and waits for her to say something else. But she slowly and deliberately returns her attention back to the romantic view of the night sky. He swears he can almost see the stars reflected in her eyes, as if they twinkle with joy. He averts his gaze quickly.

With a deep breath he pulls back each corner and comes to see what was hidden from his view only a second ago. A golden brooch. Upon further inspection, he comes to see that it closely resembles the Lee family crest. This brooch! The one he lost… when he found the ‘ghost’. This little thing that caused him such worry, finally back where it should be. He gazes upon the once lost item.

Finally tearing his eyes from it, he suddenly finds a more at-ease person, having turned around, leaning back against the railing propping herself up with her elbows. “...Lost for words?” She quirks an eyebrow at him, teasingly. A lopsided grin making its way to her face. “How unbecoming of you, Your Royal Highness.”

It finally dawns on him, what this all means. The words get caught in his throat, unable to speak now. And he seemingly doesn’t have to, because the Lady-in-Waiting already lifted herself off with a huff. She doesn’t face him as she prods at his nerves one last time. “Especially after intruding on the private affairs of a guest.” She steps away to the balcony doors, and looks over her shoulder one last time, before diving back into the crowds and disappearing from his sight.

It takes a while for him to get back to his senses. Somehow, he is more confused than before. Confused, worried even as to why he did not reach out to stop her from leaving. There’s still so many questions swirling around in his head. So many things left unanswered.

It really can’t be… that night. That was Princess Lulëza’s Lady-in-Waiting - Lady Y/N! Or was it? Shaking his head in disbelief, he feels his face grow hotter by the second with each step he takes while pacing around the balcony. Could it be that the Lady-in-Waiting ist just covering for the Princess?

He has half a mind to dive back into the crowd of ladies and gentlemen and go look for her. To grab her and drag her back to this balcony and demand answers. But he can’t. If he gets too close… what if he…

No.

He shakes his head furiously, ashamed of his crude thoughts and leans against the marble railing once again. Lowering his head in defeat as his mind is going into overdrive. Thoughts continue to swirl around in his head, alarming him slightly with its vulgar contents.

Lifting his head - just in time - he spots a figure down below the balcony, hurrying along the neatly cut grass, going towards the hedge maze near the terrace. She’s dressed in a gaudy light blue dress, one that is now all too familiar. Running along quickly. Another woman dressed in dark purple dress, seemingly waiting for her by the maze entrance while holding a singular flower, opens her arms and the two of them embrace tightly, feathery accessories swaying slightly in the cooling night breeze. Their hands intertwine before they start hurrying inside the maze.

He quickly turns around with widened eyes - giving the Princess and that stranger some privacy. He sighs deeply in defeat and walks back towards the doors of the balcony, heading back inside the blindingly bright hall. Diving back into the crowd and slowly making his way through to the exit.

Well, at least he knows that it really was not Princess Lulëza.

The entire way back through the palace hallways, his brows stay furrowed in confusion. Getting one answer for which more questions appear… It's exhausting to think about it. Arriving back at his bedchambers door with a heavy heart and more unanswered questions, he finds a single white Clover, placed deliberately right on the handle of his door. Looking in each direction, left and right down the dimly lit hallway, he cannot see anybody who could have left it. However, he can already guess from whom this recent pattern of generosity stems. He gently plucks the flower, cradling it carefully in his gloved hand and heads inside. Closing the door behind him, he sighs yet again. A fairly recently acquired habit. He clutches the flower gently in his hand. Finding his guidebook that’s stowed away in his belongings, once again deciphering the meaning behind this gift.

Once more, he hides his face in his gloved hand as his heart flutters unwillingly. The flower hanging upside down in his other hand. The same way his sanity is hanging on by a thread.

Clover, white; Think of me

And think of her he did. Nothing. Absolutely nothing he does, can take his mind off of it. Not just the Lady but… the sights are still vivid in his mind. He still can’t look Sir Seo directly in the eye, not without the sight of him appearing in his mind, on his knees, crying out in pain or in a state of ecstasy, still clear as day.

It’s abundantly clear that this will be a matter, which his heart won't let go off so easily.

Perhaps a walk through the garden after high tea with his mother will help him. The weather certainly allows him this leisure. And Her Majesty… She certainly is no help in regards to his issue, with her scheming and her deceptive but delighted smiles. He worries that his mother might think he is trying to court the foreign Princess. If only she knew. Perhaps she would have his head. He might even be exiled to another foreign nation up north, away from his home or the foreign nation where his courting ‘quarry’ would be. He forces himself to shake that awful thought.

Off to wander through the extensive gardens, attendants follow in tow, along with a big parasol to shield him from the sun. As they aren’t allowed to talk to him freely, he keeps his thoughts to himself. Opting to instead argue with himself, in his head.

Why did Lady Y/N give him his brooch back, did she know or realize what it implied?

How did Princess Lulëza know about the flowers? Are they so close, as to know of each other's personal affairs?

But his internal debates come to a standstill when a familiar figure dressed in a light blue dress calls out to him and makes her way over, carrying a small basket containing bunched up bouquets of flowers. Great, just who he needed to see. But… he can’t deny the joy bubbling up at seeing her again so soon. As Lady Y/N makes her way over towards him, the basket bounces slightly against her moving hips. Tearing his eyes away from her… hindquarters, he clears his throat quickly, before he politely greets her with a warm smile.

She bows respectfully this time around, followed by a gentle greeting tone. “Your Royal Highness.”

His eyes widen only slightly in surprise at her respectful demeanor, clearly not expecting it after their previous encounter. He hurriedly continues, unintentionally giving her a brighter smile than intended. “Ah- Lady Y/N, what a pleasure to meet you here.”

She hums in response, “Are you seizing the rare opportunity to enjoy the warmer weather?” She asks, inquisitive glint in her eyes.

“Very much so…” He affirms quickly, nodding his head eagerly. A humorous, pained look on his face.

Leaning over to look at the silent attendants behind him, who keep their respectful but quite far distance, she quietly asks, “All by your lonesome?” a taunting smile playing along her lips.

He stifles a laugh - hiding it with a quick cough. Then quickly comes up with an idea. He begins, “Indeed, you are right, that would be a shame, would it not?” Placing one hand over his heart. “Would you care to join me, Lady Y/N?” tilting his head, akin to a saddened puppy, he goes on “I wish not to bask in this warm sunshine alone.”

She is taken aback of course, but after a brief pause nods nonetheless and comes over to walk next to him, also keeping her respectful distance under the scrutiny of the public eye - the royal attendants. Unlike yesterday. He finds himself somehow longing for that closeness again, but quickly shakes it off. He is a Prince. He will act like a Prince and refuse to fall prey to these… desires. These desires that stir his unruly heart.

They walk side by side, strolling along the several winding paths of the palace garden. Walking along he does not even realize how time passes by. Subconsciously bringing the Lady to places that are quite hidden to the unfamiliar. A small part of him wonders if he shouldn’t show the Princess around like this, instead of her Lady-in-Waiting. But whenever he wants to speak those words to his attendants, to go find the more important guest from Oswen, his own heart blocks him. He cannot bring himself to utter those words. Much rather enjoying the company of the secretly bold and witty Lady next to him. It is much more intriguing than the usual polite talks he has to conduct with esteemed guests. And if what he saw is true… then the Princess’ heart already lies with someone else - there’s no need to charm her in order to aid the talks between their homes. He also would not want to cause any interpersonal issues. He is a gentleman after all, it is how he was raised by his loving mother.

Up ahead, he spots a familiar stream, a place he loved to play in as a young child. He looks to his side and finds a pensive gaze from his new walking partner. As they near the flowing waters, the road transforms. From a more stable granite setts - to a gravel path. Knowing the footwear young ladies must wear, he carefully extends his gloved hand to her, offering to help her walk without losing her footing. Unsurprisingly, his heart skips a beat when her hand is placed in his. He holds it tightly. Proudly helping the Lady walk along until they find a stable spot again. A spot in which she doesn’t have to worry about her heel getting stuck in the ground. She thanks him inaudibly and Felix almost forgets to let go of her hand, holding it a tad longer. Until she quirks her eyebrow slightly, and he hurriedly apologizes. Suddenly his collar feels tighter than before. She stares out into the flowing stream before her. Watching the water intensely and before long, her pensive gaze from before returns. Before he can ask if there is anything on her mind, she speaks up instead.

“Your Royal Highness… Do you know about the story of Forget-me-not’s?” She tears her eyes from the river and looks up at him.

“I am afraid I do not my Lady… enlighten me,” he politely requests, quickly adding a, “if… you please.”

“Well…” She shifts her basket to the other side, no more obstacles between them, “Once upon a time there was a Knight. He wanted to pick a few blossoms for his beloved and thus went out into the fields, akin to this one, by a river.” He simply nods and listens.

She tells the story without looking at him, simply staring into the waters. “However, after finding the flowers and making a bouquet for her, he slipped near the wet field, dampened by the flowing river nearby. Before he fell into the water, he tossed it to his beloved with the last of his strength exclaiming ‘Vergiss mich nicht!’ which roughly translates to ‘Forget me not!’, thus giving these lovely flowers here,” She turns towards him and points to her basket, filled with lovely light blue flowers, “their name.”

“What a…” his eyebrows furrow slightly, “tragic turn of events, don’t you think so, Lady Y/N?” He finds himself asking, suddenly upset over this unknown knight losing his life.

“I suppose,” She trails off, “But these flowers symbolize true love memories… isn’t that wonderful?” Looking up at him, she gives a bright smile.

His words get caught in his throat. It's the first time he has seen her smile so… genuinely. What a macabre story to smile for. However, he cannot deny its beauty. He turns away quickly as his face grows hotter, and his heart grows weaker, stammering out a response. “I-it truly is.”

She laughs quietly in delight.

Forget-me-not; true love memories, don’t forget about me

She has been plaguing his mind, day and night. It doesn’t help that his own little private collection of flowers has grown so much nowadays. The idea of pressing the gifted flowers in order to preserve them floats around in his head too.

And lately… everywhere he goes, somehow he will find Lady Y/N there. Whenever he walks the many palace halls, it is almost a given that he will walk past her and the Princess at least once. One wonders if they are doing it on purpose. Greeting them kindly, he manages to sneak a glance at the refined Lady standing next to the graceful Princess… and it seems that he always catches her sneaking a glance at him too. Their gazes lock together for a brief moment. He denies any thought that perhaps she has become interested in him - he has to. Walking past them, his heart would just not cease its incessantly loud beating, thrumming against his tightening chest. Boldly sneaking yet another glance over his shoulder, he finds her gaze on him once again. Mirroring each other almost. Oh how he wishes he could turn back completely and speak with her more, enjoy her presence a little longer. Steal her away from her duty to the Princess, whisking her away in order to indulge in his selfish desire. Quickly snapping his head back, he walks away with a bright red face and sweaty palms, a look of bewilderment on his face. He must have fallen ill - that is the only plausible explanation. Perhaps a visit to the palace doctor is in need.

This endless back and forth, this push and pull… it is making matters worse. He thought he could finally have some time to himself, some time to think clearly, surrounded by the endless sea of trees in the northern part of Askain. How thankful one should be for the hunting contest, set up by none other than the King, his father. Feeling the wind in his hair, to have an excuse to mess it up, to ride through the forest as the sunlight shines through the leaves. Even being on horseback itself, high above the ground, feels freeing. It makes him feel… untouchable almost. It is a most delightful experience.

And being away from everyone else feels freeing in itself, away from the prying eyes. Allowed to look even a little undignified. A short escape of his duties. But most importantly away from her, as much as he enjoys her company, it is just not good for his heart. The decision did not come lightly to him, but in order not to taint his reputation, he has decided to stay away from the Lady. Lest he’ll be called a skirt-chaser! He would prefer not to ruin her chances of being wed in the future, if the high court begins rumors about her getting the attention of the Crown Prince… he would not be able to forgive himself. Felix knows better than anyone what pain can be caused by baseless rumors. He does not wish to pull her into an unwanted predicament.

But then again, it seems like everywhere he goes, there she is, as if she knew. As if she is deliberately waiting for him. And it seems like this time is no different.

The friendly hunting tournament held between Askain and Oswen is going to end soon. Of course he abstained from going after the animal, hiding beneath the guise of this contest in order to enjoy some private time. This is not the first time either. The time limit set by his father was until sundown and now he can see the warm sun slowly sinking down to the horizon.

So why is Felix the Crown Prince, here in the middle of the northern Askain forest, with Y/N Princess Lulëza’s Lady-in-Waiting and nowhere near the starting area, where everyone else is waiting for them? When the horn blows - that’ll be the indication of the end of the tournament. So why is he still here? It is a question he has not found the answer for just yet.

Rather… he has found himself in quite the predicament. Wishing his knees were not so weak, wishing he was able to speak loudly and clearly in front of her. But he finds himself cornered, emotionally trapped in his own heart.

The woman in front of him has somehow found him riding through the forest alone, seemingly lost her way and was now looking to reunite with her Princess.

How could he not help a Lady in distress?

Throughout their search, conversation started off a bit delicately, but soon fell into a more comfortable flow. One that they were used to. They soon dismounted their horses, growing tired from riding for so long, opting to sit on a lone branch they came across. Of course only after he loosened the tie of his cape, setting it down for the Lady to sit. He was a gentleman after all.

Here, hidden from prying eyes, sitting closer than before, conversations with the beautiful woman came much more naturally, words flowing like the gentle stream he loved as a child. He slowly comes to find the tension in his body slowly leaving him. The search for the Princess - long forgotten. Perhaps the hidden and freeing atmosphere is the reason why the bold Lady next to him proposed something to him out of the blue. But a peek into her world, into what happened that night.

But instead of the Captain - Sir Seo, it shall be Prince Felix this time around.

He jumps to his feet before he can stop it. A conflicting mixture of offense and deep, deep curiosity swirls around in him. She slowly stands up along with him, slowly losing her assuring smile. He nearly reaches out to grab her by the shoulders, to shake some sense into her, but refrains, opting to pace around in front of her like a caged tiger. Shaking his head in disbelief as his hands wave about in a frustrated manner.

“Lady Y/N! You must know that such vulgar offers are not-” stressed, he runs a gloved hand through his hair, “You… You are a Lady first and foremost, and the Oswen Princess’ Lady-in-Waiting. Please do not forget.” He turns away from her, shame crawling up his back slowly. No one usually speaks of these topics! …Do they? He wouldn’t know, for anytime Felix has asked his parents, the attendants and close friends about these topics he was quickly shut down. The disdain was clear as day. Soon, the shame he felt became too much, and he stopped asking. Afraid to lose the affection he received, due to his inadequacy. Forced to learn on his own, be it by books or imagination.

“Ah… I see,” She trails off, clearly upset, crossing her arms over her chest, “Because of my title, I have lost all ability to feel and des-”

“Please. Don’t-” He sighs and shakes his head again. “And you must know that proposing such things to a man-” He faces her and stops himself, feeling his face grow hotter by the second.

She simply glares at him and waits for him to continue.

“It is… it is preposterous!” Turning away again, unable to hold her strong gaze. How she manages to fluster him so - it’s truly a mystery to him.

“Preposterous?!” Her tone is appalled, offended even.

He turns back to her and takes a few steps closer, desperation seeping through him. “Indeed! Since I am a gentleman and would never dare to-” All of his once coherent thoughts get dropped like stones into water as soon as he realizes how close they are. He is face to face with her. Looking up at him, her eyes staring into his. He forgot what he wanted to say. He wishes not to upset her, that really was not his intention. It seems the flow of this conversation has gotten out of hand. He must mend it soon, lest he ruin the good interconnection the two of them had - even if it was in secret.

After blinking quickly and swallowing deeply, he wants to finish up the discussion with: “This secret of yours… is one that I shall keep.” He looks into her eyes deeply, trying to understand. Switching from one to the other, as if her eyes would spell out the answer for him. As if her very soul would open up and let him catch a glimpse of what is going on inside of her. “I promise.”

“Your Highness…” Her gaze softens ever so slightly, but then she lifts an eyebrow at him, “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

“What?” He breathes out the words, nervousness seeping into his skin.

She takes a step towards him. He takes one back. They are alone in the vast forest. Unchaperoned. But he suddenly feels trapped.

She sneers at him provocatively. “You would make a Lady repeat herself, Your Highness?”

Another step towards him, he takes yet another back. He could run if he wanted to. Mount his horse and leave the irreverent Lady in the dust. He could…

“Lady Y/N.” He evades her by stumbling backwards and to the right. “W-why are you coming so close?”

She stays silent, instead her gaze intensifies again as she takes another slow deliberate step towards him. Stalking him, as if she is the predator hunting the prey.

Why is he even backing away? Does he really want to run… from her?

“Lady Y/N, I must command you to stay where you are.” He tries to get out the stern order, but his own voice betrays him by cracking under the pressure.

She refuses to listen, ignoring his helpless commands. “What is the matter, Your Highness? Do you find the idea of laying with a woman like me so ridiculous?” She instead barks out her assumptive questions with ease, demanding answers with a much more assertive tone.

He begins with “Lady-” but quickly gets cut off.

“No. Answer me,” she demands louder, “Why were you there that night?”

“Y/N. Please I-” He stammers out with a pleading tone.

“Did you just come to watch - to sneak a glance at someone living out their private desires?” Emphasizing the privacy aspect with intent.

He squeaks as his back comes into contact with a big tree trunk behind him.

She goes on, “Did you not seek me out to get a taste of it yourself? Is that not what you wanted?”

Standing unbelievably close, he can feel her breath on his face as his eyes are locked to hers. As if pulled by an invisible string, his gaze seems to find hers so naturally. She leans just a little closer, “Are your thoughts not plagued by curiosity? To know what true pleasure feels like?”

Cornered with no way of escape, Felix feels the resolve, he tries to strengthen so badly, unravel bit by bit. “We…” He averts his gaze for a moment, “we shouldn’t…” shaking his head with a heavy feeling in his heart. Weakening knees threatening to give out from underneath him any second now.

Taken aback for a short second, her eyes widen slightly, before finally stepping even closer. Her nose scrunching up slightly in mockery, “No,” another step, “No, we shouldn’t…” Her lips come together into a pout, practically flouting at him.

Felix does not know what to do.

His back against the cold bark is sending a shiver down his spine. He places his palms against the icy surface. Goosebumps are rising on his skin. He flinches back when her fingers come into contact with his jacket, smoothing it over with a pensive gaze. How he wishes he could hide himself in his cape, long forgotten on the branch nearby. Pressing himself further against the wall, trying to evade her touch further. It has become too much for him. His heart is beating all the way in his throat and temples. He cannot slip away. If she keeps touching him so gently…

She moves her hands from the smooth fabric of his jacket, placing one hand near his waist on the tree behind him. Afraid to even touch her, his arms stay attached to the wall, shifting to make way for her hands. Her other hand slowly makes its way up. Up along the seams - past every single button, until it reaches the sheer frilly collar around his neck; it feels unbelievably constrictive now. Perhaps she can feel his thumping heart through the endless layers of fabric. She looks up at him, her eyelashes fluttering beautifully and he does not tear his eyes from her. Looking at her pleadingly with wide eyes. Helpless.

She leans up, near his face, and he closes his eyes instinctively. A seductive whisper against his ear. “But… do you want to?”

He leans back further, accidentally hitting the back of his head against the cold bark and opens his eyes in shock, seeing the knowing look in her eyes - despite the mocking pout on her pretty lips. Felix lets out a stammery breath he did not know he was holding, and finally gives in, leaning his forehead against her shoulder. She knows. He cannot fool her. His arms still stay obediently by his sides. His entire body shakes as he nods against her. Her shoulders bounce lightly, accompanying her hushed laughter. He shudders when her breath hits the sensitive area of his neck.

“Lost for words yet again… Your Highness?” she whispers against his ear, bracing herself on his trembling body, leaning her weight against him fully now. Unknowingly steadying his weak body.

He feels helpless, so unbelievably weak for her. He was avoiding her because he knew the second he would meet her gaze, he would fall to his knees, awaiting her embrace. He just nods against her shoulder again.

One look from her is enough, to elicit the most peculiar reactions from his body.

“Answer me.” She brings up her hands and caresses him slowly. Gently running her fingers along his collarbone, up to his neck again, entangling themselves in the strands of hair at his nape.

It is at this time that he realizes, being caressed so softly…. is an unfamiliar sensation to him. The sensation feels incredibly comforting. “I do…” he sighs again, deeply ashamed of his vulgar desires. “Lady Y/N… you are a dangerous woman.”

She giggles quietly in surprised delight at his words, before humming in content. “Mmm, I know.”

Before he can even think of falling to his knees, to hug her legs over her skirt and bask in the sweet addicting caresses… a loud blare of the horns echoes throughout the forest. That sound… He lifts his head from her shoulder quickly. Even when she turns her head back, her palms stay placed flat on his chest. That is the horn signifying the end of the hunt! Offended cawing halls throughout the forest, the crows flapping their big wings and leaving quickly, away from the loud horn. Felix can sympathize very well.

As soon as the loud blare and the bird calls fade, his eyes move to hers. She’s still looking back, away from him, her eyelashes fluttering with every blink. Her lips are pursed in a slight pout.

She is very beautiful.

Suddenly she whips her head back to him, and catches him looking at her. A second passes before the sultry smile forms on her face - now his knees might really give out. She is not just beautiful - she is captivating. In every way, shape or form. He carefully reaches out to her gloved hands that are still placed on his chest, wrapping his fingers around hers and holding them. Enjoying the sensation for a short while, while she watches him with curiosity written all over her.

“Lady Y/N…” His breath hitches as he brings up one of her hands, hesitantly placing a kiss to them with closed eyes. Keeping his lips on the silky fabric as he slowly opens his eyes again.

She smiles gently, squinting her eyes at him affectionately. “You might wish to stay, Your Highness.” Looking at his lips, still placed on her hand, then back into his eyes. ”However… if we return too late, who knows what rumors might circulate within the palace walls, no?”

He sighs. She speaks the truth, if they return too late… the court would surely enjoy spreading various rumors. He might even get scolded by his parents, especially his father.

She pauses for a brief moment, clearly hesitating while she thinks, and then continues. “Am I… to expect company tonight?” Bringing their clasped hands to her lips now.

He feels the faint sensation of her kiss on his gloved hands now. His ears grow hot as he nods faintly and timidly. Hesitant in his actions, unsure if that is what she wishes for. Placing the second and last kiss to his gloved fingers, she steps back, leaving him with the loss of warmth spreading all over his body. The realization hits him, about how she had pressed her whole body against his. Hot shame crawls from underneath his collar and up his neck. Heat pools in his stomach… even between his legs.

Just nearby, a shrub of lovely white gardenias blooms. Watching her lean over and pick one, an affectionate smile plays along his lips. She must really like flowers. To his surprise, she turns around and presents the freshly picked flower to him. When she stays still and does not move, an expression indicating that she is insisting on yet another gift for him, he finally accepts it. Hesitantly reaching out to the flower with one hand, the other covering his bright red face.

Riding back alongside the Lady that would not cease her teasing ways, smiling at him every now and then, he makes a mental note to look up this particular flower's meaning later tonight.

Gardenia; You’re lovely, Secret love

How he managed to make it all the way to your bedchamber, without being seen.. He does not know. And he cannot bring himself to care not either. His mind is all too focused on the unknown. Not knowing what awaits him in this building, behind this door.

Standing in front of the familiar door, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, nervous about this entire situation. But something inside of him pulls his arm up and makes him knock faintly on the door. Perhaps there is a ghost in this part of the palace afterall.

The now fixed and thankfully quiet door opens, and he comes to face the beautiful Lady Y/N, and her cautious look transforms into a smiling one - her demeanor so inviting. Peeking her head out the slight opening, she stares down the dark hallway. But Felix checked not only twice but three times, to make sure no one was following him.

Making sure everything is clear, and not tearing her eyes from the hallway, she wraps her fingers around his wrist and pushes the door open further to pull him inside. He lets her do so with ease. Inside her room, he finds himself looking around curiously. It is his first time in a Lady’s room at night, afterall. The big bed, the chaise in the corner near the small window… Even the desk, with ordinary parchment and a quill, seems interesting to him now.

“See something out of the ordinary, Your Highness?” Her voice appears from right next to him, making him flinch harshly. He didn’t even hear the door close. Perhaps the repairs for this door should have been postponed until after their visit…

He shakes his head and turns towards her, heart beating out his chest already. Only now realizing that the woman in front of him is only wearing a nightgown - and a quite pretty one at that. The frilly material around her bosom and the sheer material on her sleeves. She’s quite exposed. And only then does he realize he has been rudely staring at her body, so he snaps his eyes back to hers and finds her amused gaze. Ah… he’s been caught.

You push past him, stepping along the carpeted floor towards the big cushioned seat in the corner. Smoothing down the material on the back of your sheer nightgown you sit down. Seemingly floating down into the seat. The material around your body shifts and settles into place elegantly as well. Frozen in amazement he stands by the entrance - he’s captivated by your every move. Only when you beckons him over gently, does he snap out of his trance. He carefully makes his way over and comes to a standstill right in front of you. Looking down at you like this… doesn’t feel right in his heart. Thankfully you gestures for him to lower himself, and he obliges glady. The dark blue brocade cape settles down behind him like a bride's veil as he kneels on the floor.

Somehow… looking up at you from this angle instead, it feels right. His heart is much more at ease. He finds a gentle look in your eyes as you watch him with a close eye. You leans forward and reach out with both hands, close to his face. But he knelt too far it seems, for your embrace is just out of reach. So he shuffles along on his own, seeking out the loving caresses from this earlier afternoon. When your hands finally cradle his already warming up face, he feels all the energy leave his body. He fists the fabric of his pants desperately as you begin stroking your thumbs gently over his cheeks. He tries to get even closer, to get more affection, more gentle touches. The Lady indulges him with delight it seems.

Inhaling deeply before a smile appears on her plush lips, she shifts her hands, holding him even more securely than before. His stomach drops as the loving caresses begin again - his heart is in the palm of her hands. Slowly dropping his weight, unable to hold it any longer, his legs are now folded politely underneath him. With each stroke of her thumb, she drains him of his strong resolve. As if she’s taking his energy, seeping it from him, one touch at a time. He even dares to fold his arms over her knees, legs spread slightly as he places them on either side of her pressed together feet. They are so close. It’s not something he’s used to.

You lean down while bringing a thumb over his wide eyes, making him close his eyes reflexively. A gentle press of your lips against his closed eyelids, makes his heart skip a beat. An unfamiliar gentleness from you - something he probably won’t be able to get enough of. After extending that same kindness to his other closed eyelid and finally his forehead, his eyes flutter open just in time to see your face up close, leaning further down. There’s a lump in his throat. His eyes try to follow you, as his entire body is frozen. You don't kiss him just yet, instead you place your lips against the corner of his mouth. Then you lean back and stare deeply into his wide eyes.

You swipe your thumb against his cheek once more, “I adore your freckles. You’re so beautiful, Prince Felix.” whispering, only for him to hear, even if the two of you are the only ones in this room right now. That was meant for his ears only.

He swallows the lump in his throat, “Please…” Never having heard someone compliment him so directly. “Just Felix.”

“Hm?” You tilt your head inquisitively.

“Please… call me Felix. When we are alone.”

“Is that what you wish for?”

He nods much more eagerly than intended. And you begin to smile at him tenderly. So tender it might just make him cry. He steels himself slightly, he doesn’t want to show any unsightly side of him to the lovely Lady. Leaning down once more, you whisper his name against his ear, and it does something to him, to hear his name whispered so intimately, so seductively. Helpless to the allure of it all. It threatens to engulf him completely.

“Felix… is there anything else you wish for?” You lean back and shift your hands to the back of his head, playing with the hairs on his nape, effectively making him lose his train of thought.

“Me?”

“Yes. There must be a reason you came to me, and not just any Lady out there, no?” You question him.

He bites his tongue, he mustn't admit that… right away. Cannot admit you are also a big part of the reason he has even found himself here in the first place. That you are unlike any other Lady he knows. Does she really not know? Or does she deem him as someone controlled by their desires? But he fears questioning it would cause a misunderstanding. So he nods, albeit cautiously. “There… there is something.”

She awaits his answer eagerly, still twirling around his strands between her fingers. And under her eager gaze, he finds more heat rushing to his face. He tries to steel himself a little, and shuffles backwards, heart clenching at the loss of touch. Then he quickly removes his black silk gloves and stuffs them into a pocket on the inside of his cape. Felix hesitates before slowly reaching out to the bare feet laying in between his folded legs. Glancing up at her for permission, she takes over and slowly lifts her right foot. He holds onto it with one hand, the other cradling her soft ankle. And he brings it up to his face and places a deliberate kiss on top of her foot.

“Oh?” The Lady seems surprised. “Do you know what this gesture means, Felix?” She leans over and leans on one armrest, hiding her smile behind her fingers.

He nods. “I know. Brave warriors and knights have done the same to my father.” He presses yet another daring kiss on her. “...It is worship.”

You continue to smile into your own hand as you watch him, visibly amused and surprised. “Does this mean… you want to worship me?” Leaning down, you slowly loosens the knot of his cape, letting it fall into a pile behind him. “Is that your… selfless wish?”

He nods and slowly lowers her leg. “If you’ll permit me, My Lady.”

You smile again while reaching down to slowly undo the top button of his jacket, biting your lip slowly before seeking out his gaze again. “I’ll permit it, since you have asked me so politely.”

He remembers something he should have brought up at the start however. “My Lady… I must let you know that I am a little dependent on your guidance in these… endeavors. For I am not very experienced.”

You lean even further down, giving Felix a clearer view of your bosom, slowly being pressed against your own legs, threatening to spill out of the low-cut nightgown. He wishes not to tear his eyes away, but it is quite rude to stare, so he shamefully flicks his gaze down towards the hands undoing the last button on his jacket. You finally lean up slightly and cradle his face once more. Voice taking on a much gentler tone. “I’ll take good care of you, my sweet boy.”

He smiles up at her, smitten. The affectionate name does little to help his very helpless case. As if in a daze, he shrugs off his jacket with ease and even his shirt soon after, leaving it discarded in the same pile forming behind him. All he does is look up at you, admiring. Believer and Goddess, in the same room. In close proximity. Should this even be called sinful? Who is anyone to question the subject of worship?

“Will you… embrace me, Lady Y/N?”

…

She froze. Her hands stop playing with his hair and she blinks at him. A few seconds pass as an indefinable tension hangs in the air. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked for something so… embarrassing. But she snaps out of it, asking for confirmation. “Embrace… you? As in… holding you close to me?” Much to his dismay, she retracts her hands slightly, “Or… as in laying with you?”

Oh no, the misunderstandings he was trying to avoid, now rear their ugly heads. He wishes not for just a body to use, he wishes to spend time with you. To feel your addicting warm touches for as long as you will permit him to. He quickly stammers out a “My Lady… please, just hold me close.”

An amused smile makes its way to her lips as she nods in understanding.

You bring your arms up and around his head, wrapping the sheer fabric of your sleeves around him like a curtain shielding him from any viewers. As if this was a sight only for the two of you to enjoy. Then your arms constrict tightly around his head, pulling him even closer, right into your soft chest. He does not want to protest, not when he feels so safe suddenly. He clutches the material of your nightgown tightly, enjoying the warm pressure of the hug as you lean over him. When you place your cheek on top of his head, he finally brings up his hands to your cool arms and places them on top. Squeezing slightly, wanting to embrace you back, to warm up your slightly cold skin. To return the affection you have given him so freely.

When she lets go and the sheer fabric in front of him slowly gets pulled back, revealing more of the bare legs underneath, he waits patiently. Allowed to see more. She speaks up again in a low tone, halting her movements for a second. “Do you wish to make me feel good?”

He nods eagerly, mouth slightly agape. A bit ashamed of where his mind is wandering to. “I do.”

“Alright… I’ll teach you.” You continue to lift your nightgown, slowly and at a torturous pace revealing your bare figure underneath the sheer fabric.

The knowledge that there was only a single layer separating him from a place he is so deeply curious about and more importantly desired… it makes his head spin. When you open your legs further, laying the bunched up fabric to the side, you scoot further to the edge of your seat. Bringing your maidenhood closer to him. He swallows deeply. Looking between your most private place and your eyes, low and seductive. Hooking him in further into the allure. Even more so when you bring your hands forward, gesturing for his hands, and placing them directly next to it. He almost flinches back. Not out of disgust or anything along those words, more so the sheer shock at the boldness of the irreverent Lady.

“Here.” You bring down a hand of your own, spreading your folds open. “If you want to make me feel really, really good, you shall do your best to listen and learn, alright?” Waiting for his nod you go on then, “Do you see this little knob here?” Pointing to it, pulling back the fleshy hood, higher up than where you are clenching slightly around nothing.

He gives a dazed nod, all the blood rushing to his face. His mind is empty, a vast desert ready to be flooded with knowledge and his first experience in this matter.

“Remember to be very kind and gentle to it, like this.” You demonstrate by circling two fingers around the little nub. Your breathing grows heavier immediately, something he immediately takes a mental note of. He is insanely curious as to how it must feel.

She waits for him to try, encouraging him with a gentle tone. He was hesitant, surprised at the feeling of it underneath his fingertips. Trying to mimic your hand placement, eliciting a breathy giggle from you. “Either way is fine.” He presses his lips together in embarrassment and nods. However, you show now sign of judgment, only affectionate amusement. He tries again, slowly circling his fingers on top of the nub and the reaction is almost immediate. A sense of pride swells up inside of him, proud of learning quickly. But that was only the beginning.

“Good… very- hmm- good.” You lean back, sinking down into the big cushioned chair. “Now,” You gently halt his fingers for a second, “that is… haah… always a good start, but there is yet another way to give pleasure.” He waits for her to go on, even more eager than before. “If you place your mouth around that nub and gently suck, it will feel very good.”

His mouth? He was not sure if he had read this in any book about making love before. In fact, everything mentioned so far has been unheard of. But he obliges nonetheless. Perhaps the people of Oswen are further in their studies of anatomy and child creation.

Carefully bringing his plush lips down and enclosing in on the now slightly swollen nub. Casting his gaze upward, he sees a faint pink blush dusting the Lady’s cheeks. Even the nipples of your breasts are standing up, poking through the sheer fabric still covering her upper body. You are so incredibly beautiful like this. His heart skips a beat. His breath hitches. You bite your lip again when he begins gently sucking, just as instructed. A gasp escapes you and he immediately parts from your maidenhood, worried that he might have hurt the Lady in such a sensitive spot.

But you give an almost lethargic smile, blinking slowly while leaning down to pat his hair gently. Reassuring him that everything was alright. That it felt good, and that he shall get to hear even more sounds from you if he does well. He leans back down quickly.

Suckling on the swollen nub carefully, even bringing his tongue up against it after being told to do so. Lady Y/N brings down her hand and gently caresses his jaw with an affectionate look in her eyes. “You’re doing so well…” The slowly growing ache in his jaw disappears almost instantly.

Her honeyed hums and gasps soaked in pleasure, cause a heat to pool in his lower stomach, one that is all too familiar to him. Embarrassing memories of his adolescence creep up on his mind. But all those thoughts quickly dissipate into the air, as she strokes his cheek with her thumb and asks him to pause. He does so with haste. Wiping his chin subtly as he leans back.

“Very good. Now… the hole - and I am not speaking of the small one in the middle - is another pleasurable spot. Take a finger and you can gently circle it like so.” You make him spread your folds further apart and demonstrate once again. He cannot take his eyes off of your fingers, widening as your finger suddenly plunges inside your hole. He is deeply entranced, glancing up at your face in order to learn from the reactions you can pull out of yourself. Then watch closely as you thrust a finger inside of yourself. He slowly forgets the room around him. His amazement grows even further when you decide to add yet another finger, making their way inside incessantly, coated in a glistening substance whenever they come out. “It’s… mmh- it’s important to curl your fingers up when inside, there is a certain spot… hmm…. It is ah- different in texture, and if you press against it, it will feel even greater.”

He nods mindlessly, mouth agape.

“And if you, pair the lesson I taught you just before… ah! …the pleasure combines, resulting in an hmph- even greater outcome.” You slip out your soaked fingers from your own hole, holding them out towards him. “Want a taste?”

He is insanely curious, once again. He leans forward, hesitantly watching your face, looking for any sign of disapproval. With his mouth agape, he waits for you to slowly insert your soaked fingers into his waiting mouth. You do so, much too slow for his own liking. It must be on purpose. Your teasing nature shows itself every now and then. He closes his mouth around your fingers and begins gently sucking and swirling his tongue around the digits. He hums in delight, in pleasure, he does not know. There is no other descriptor for this taste… than heavenly. Felix fears this is yet another thing he will fall prey to, helplessly addicted. You watch closely, an indescribable look in your eyes. The feeling of his tongue on you, it is good, even if a bit helpless and inexperienced.

He prepares himself, inserting his finger into your wet and warm hole slowly, once fully nestled inside he turns the finger until he can curl it upwards into you. An excited glint in your eye, you watch the young man try his best to finger you. Moving too slow for a steady build-up of pleasure, but his pretty face with his plush lips parted as he breathes heavily, does help you along more than you want to admit. He is very beautiful indeed. You pat his hair affectionately, ruffling his hair as his eyes stay fixed on your maidenhood. Soon enough you encourage him to insert a second finger, to go faster, to curl up his fingers harder inside of you. He hesitates always, afraid of doing something wrong, of hurting you. But with your gentle coaxing you finally get that perfect amount of pleasure that has your toes curl involuntarily. And once you guide his face over your swollen and almost forgotten nub, is when you cannot hide your noises anymore. He works so eagerly now, clearly encouraged more while listening to the whines and moans tumble out of your parted lips.

You shift your hips under the delicious sensations, slowly bringing your legs around his head, trying to push him further inside. Your abdomen clenches and a shiver runs up your spine. It feels incredible, even with his inexperience. He has since closed his eyes in concentration, curling his fingers harder into you, making your head spin slightly. Sinking into the chaise you let the pleasure wash over you, not intent on guiding anymore. Instead, wanting to get lost in the pleasure. Felix continues, not sure when to stop, or if that is even something he should do… or wants to do. He listens intently to the sounds that leave you, they do something to his mind that is indescribable. He feels dazed. Your grip on his hair is ironclad, not letting go anytime soon. Your hips shift up into his face and then away, he almost guesses that your body does not know what it would like either. But whatever it is that you decide, he shall follow. Blindly even.

He feels the harsh tug on his hair first, then the way your upper body suddenly springs up, trying to curl in on yourself, legs tightening around his head. Then he feels it, a slight splash against his chin. Having read that women urinate from their maidenhood is enough to make him flinch back, unsure if he did something wrong. Eyes wide as the clear fluids trickle from your maidenhood, down your bottom and into the cushion of the chair. The look on your face is one of pure… pleasure. Felix chokes. Then swallows deeply. “Did I…”

Your appreciative hums catch him off guard, you do not seem upset with him at all. He breathes a sigh of relief. The hand that had nestled into his hair, slowly traces down the side of his face and then you gently brush your thumb over his bright red cheek. “That haha- that was wonderful…” You give a breathless laugh in between, smiling happily to yourself while looking at his timid kneeling form.

He does no't know if he should ask. But encouraged by your happy demeanor he does so anyway. “My Lady… I apologize if this may sound rude…”

You look over at him, eyes peeking over your own heaving chest at him.

“Was that…” he trails off, not knowing the right words to use, “Have you just…”

You blink at him in confusion, then give something between a sigh and a laugh, quickly affirming “Oh yes. When women reach their high, the peak of pleasure, some may push out this clear fluid.” pinching his cheek affectionately, you lean back again, catching your breath.

He does not press the issue, it seems like this clearly was not a case of you wetting yourself in confusion or anything along those lines. Perhaps he will find a more suitable time to ask, as his mind seems to be quite hazy too, the sight in front of him, the sounds from a mere moment ago, they all pool into a heat in his abdomen. A throbbing in his pants.

Once you have collected yourself, you sit up in the now slightly soaked chair, wincing visibly at the way the cushion gives a disgustingly loud squishing sound. Grabbing a hold of the fabric, letting the sheet material fall over your body once more, you finally stand up. Looking down at the kneeling flustered man in front of you, chin still slightly wet. Crouching down to the same height, you bring up the sheer material and gently wipe at his chin. Simply cooing at him “my sweet boy…” Felix feels choked up, heart seemingly stuck in his throat at the sweet gesture. You stand up straight and help the young man stand as well, holding on tight as his legs have started to tremble, kneeling onto the floor for far too long. He mumbles an apology, but is quickly waved off by you. Guiding him towards the bed, you step over the pile of long forgotten clothes, making him sit down on your bed.

Only wearing his pants and boots now, you lean down and before you unbutton them, you place your hands on his thighs, seeking out his gaze. Tone serious as you ask “if this is to continue, I must know if you are still comfortable and in favor of doing so. If not you have to tell me, you must tell me to stop - and I will.”

A moment, he thinks, then nods shyly.

You smile and lean over to capture his lips in a sweet but short kiss. He gives out a squeak of surprise, arms hovering over your shoulders as they tremble in the air. You press your lips into his more, hands reaching down towards his pants, slowly unbuttoning them. You break the kiss and then your gaze flickers up into his one, finding his eyes glazed over with desire and sheer want. Then your eyes lock onto his plump lips again. Capturing his trembling lips in yet another kiss, this time he tightly holds onto the fabric of your nightgown again, as if it was the only thing grounding him in reality. Lips moving against each other, albeit a bit uncoordinated. His breathing picks up the pace, working himself up when he notices that you are tugging on his pants already. The realization comes too late, that you have already started to undress him. But he lets you, not protesting in the slightest.

You make him get up, letting his pants fall to the floor, pooling around his boots. Gently guiding him into a position where he is bending over, hands braced on the soft bed.

“Stay like this.” You step back and look over his body, shaking like a leaf.

“Right.” Is all he can manage to say, pressing his lips together, feeling a little vulnerable and exposed in this revealing position. He gathers himself slightly and tries to remain strong “what do you intend to do, my La- Ah!”

He squeaks out, knees knocking together in surprise as I press my hips into his from behind, bringing my hand around his body, raking my nails up his thighs. “Now as a reward, I will make you feel good.”

He shivers and shifts from one foot to the other, nervously moving around. The nails digging into his sensitive delicate skin make him gasp and whimper. The unfamiliar sensation of your hips against his bottom. He was worried for a brief moment about a ravishment awaiting him, obviously by none other than you. But it does feel strangely good, even if nothing is happening in reality. Perhaps the mere amount of fantasies and thoughts running through his head are enough to shoot thunderbolts through his body. You lean your body over his and he feels your clothed chest press against his back, making him arch his own back even further, trying to evade touching you by accident. Still unsure if he is allowed to touch you freely.

He lets his shaky head hang between his shoulders, hair swinging slightly in the air as he gets to watch your wandering hands touch his body all over. Even though he sees it coming, he is not ready for the sensations that follow. You bring up your hands towards his chest and he does not understand why you would want to touch his chest until you gently rake your nails along the most sensitive part of his pectorals, making him flinch. He breathes deeply as you pinch the nubs in between your fingertips, pulling on them gently, making him arch his back even further, straining with a long drawn out groan. Then to his horror one of your hands slides down his stomach, finding the fabric of his undergarments, your hand slides in effortlessly. Goosebumps rise all over his body, hairs on his skin visibly standing up. He flinches harshly when your nimble fingers wrap around his sensitive length. He whimpers. Not knowing what to do with himself.

“Does that feel good, my love?” Your whispers against his ear surprise him.

“I-it does.”

You begin gently stroking his length with your hand, and he feels a shiver run down his spine, hot shame crawling on his back. “M-My Lady, please that is unsanitary!”

You hum as you press a kiss to his bare shoulder, “Is it now?” your sharp teeth graze his skin slightly, making him flinch.

He nods eagerly, ears a deep shade of red. Despite his protests of shame and humiliation, you continue, enjoying the shivers from the body right underneath you, the one you are leaning your entire weight on, on purpose. With each shiver his hips push back into yours. Not answering him afterwards you begin to stroke him faster, increasing the pace, whispering into his red ear again. “Did you think about this, after you caught me that night?”

He gives a shuddery moan, “W-what?”

“Did you picture yourself here, in this very room?”

“I-I… ah- did… I apologize, my Lady. Hmph- I did not mean to.” His legs shake slightly.

“Mmm, no need to apologize.” I kiss his back affectionately. “Tell me, did you imagine yourself in the same position you found your Captain in?”

“N-no…”

“No?”

“No… wanted- haah- wanted you to stand closer…” His shaky moans trail off, as he tries to gather himself enough to answer again. “Caress me sweetly, dote on me… embrace me with… with care.”

The stroking stops for a mere moment.

Before picking up at a much faster pace, hips pushing into him from behind as one hand tugs on his pebbled nipple. You do not answer his sweet innocent fantasies, they have riled you up too much. Leaning your forehead against his back, before impulsively leaning down and biting into the soft skin there, hard. Coaxing a particularly loud moan from him, drawn out until he inhales shakily. Body spasming with the shocks of it all, as you feel the sticky substance coat your hand, still frantically stroking him. Prolonging his high for as long as you can, until his knees give out and he falls forward onto the bed. A trembling body laying on your sheets now, twitching with the aftershocks of his first high of the night.

You cannot help but stand between his spread legs, pushing against him. Placing your palms flat on his bottom, you push down onto his melting body, the air escaping him immediately in a drawn out choked off groan. Much too dazed in order to react properly or pretend to be ashamed of being touched so intimately. He breathes out a confused “What did I-” But you shush him quickly. Answering him with a simple “It will feel good, I promise.” Digging your nails into the fat, you squeeze tightly, earning another shiver as well as a keen whine. Deciding to retract both of your hands, lifting them into the air and bringing them down harshly onto him again. The impact creates a sound that sends the room into a short silence, the shock from him clear, you can tell - even if his face is turned away from you.

“All men know how to thrust their hips.” You state, matter-of-factly. “But does that not become mundane and, quite frankly, boring after a while?” hypothetical question hanging in the air as you knead the flesh underneath your palms. “Your body was made to feel. In so many different ways… I will teach you.”

Then he peeks over his shoulder, curiously casting his wanton gaze upon you. He wants more. That much is clear, even when he shifts his hips slightly, trying to press his legs together. You grant him his unspoken silent wish, lifting only your right hand, slapping it down onto his bottom again, earning another gasp followed shortly after a whimper when you bring your left hand down. You spank him a few times, eyeing his body curiously for any sign that he has reached his limit. Be it physical or emotional.

Once you have decided that he has had enough, you hook your fingers into his undergarments and pull them down. Stepping back from in between his legs you crouch down to untie the knot in his laced-up boots, tugging them off. Soon his pants and his underwear follow. The garments are all disregarded into the growing pile by the bed.

After you undress him completely, you encourage him to turn around and scoot further up on your bed, with an affectionate pat to his now pink bottom. Slowly climbing in after him, crawling towards him with a smile. Felix wishes not to stray too far from you. So he soon pauses, wanting to meet your lips with his again. The desire burns strongly in his stomach as your lips come closer to his, hovering over them. So close. His breath hitches when you do not close the gap between the two of you. Instead, your warm hand finds its way towards his chest, pressing against it, and he slowly lets himself sink into the sheets, unsure if this is what you want him to do. But you continue to give your gentle coaxing smile. Once he has laid down completely, you shift your position, crawling over him and he feels your knees lift themselves over his legs. The weight makes the mattress dip slightly as you get comfortable, seated on his lap. He does not see, but he feels you instead. The sheer nightgown, laying itself over his body like a veil, shielding his view from where the two of you are so close. He can almost taste it.

The view from down here is even better than kneeling at your feet.

His hands slowly get fetched by your own and placed intentionally on your thighs. Your hands stay placed over his, as they guide him. Up your thighs, squeezing your hips, tickling along your sides slightly, wrapping around your shoulders and gently pulling you down on top of him. Giggling coming from his chest now, where your face is hidden. He cannot help but smile as well. The tension dissipating into thin air, the atmosphere becoming light and easygoing, instead of heavy and serious. Secretly, he is very relieved that it is not the latter.

You shift your hips purposefully. Dragging your soaked folds over his length, laying uselessly against his stomach. Lifting yourself up slowly, you blow a stray strand of hair out of your face. Place his hands on your hips, speaking breathily “You may squeeze if you must.” Before settling down more of your weight on top of him, placing your hands on his forearms and gliding back and forth slowly. Soothingly. Along his length you shift, until he hits the middle just so, making you breathe heavily at first, until the sounds transform into little pants and gasps. The pleasurable sensations spreading from between your legs all over to your thighs.

Felix can only throw his head back, the pleasure spreading all over his body as well. This sensation… your soaked folds gliding along his length slowly and deliberately… it feels much better than the familiar relief of his own hands. His lips part and he freezes for a brief moment, before a long drawn out groan makes its way past his lips. Lifting his shaky head, he tries to see, he wants to see it. But the sheer fabric leaves much to the imagination, so he sinks his head into the soft sheets again. The sheets that smell like you. It is akin to a big embrace from you, your scent and softness surrounding him everywhere. No part of him left untouched by you.

He closes his eyes and mutters under his breath, “Please…”

You hum in response, lifting your eyebrows as the silent questions hang in the air.

He whines “My Lady. Please… touch me.”

You smile affectionately, heart swelling up with endearment, “Touch you where?”

“Anywhere. Please I-”

Quickly you reach out to his stomach, partially covered by sheer fabric and trace your fingers along the clenching skin lightly. Hands drifting over his skin and up to his chest, tapping the sensitive buds with your cold fingertips - he shivers in delight, opening his eyes widely and his gaze flickers up to yours. Eyes glazed over with a strong emotion. Desire.

Squeezing his chest one last time you rake your nails along, tracing his collarbone, brushing against his neck and then you place your fingers under his chin, lifting his head slightly, making him gaze up at the ceiling. At the same time you then scratch along the sensitive area of his neck, earning a shiver from the young man, craving your touches. Soaking them all up into his system eagerly. Gliding your fingertips along his shoulder you caress him sweetly, bringing your hands back to his neck, dragging them up to his jaw. Finally cradling his face in your hands. Now you are leaning over him completely. Your thumb brushes against his flushed cheek as his eyes find yours, flickering between your eyes and then your lips. Even your chest. How scandalous - you smile to yourself.

Done indulging his needs for a mere moment, you start leaning back, bracing your hands on his thighs, you spread your essence over his twitching length, until you cannot push back the next act any longer.

Passion running high and patience running dangerously low.

You lift your hips slightly, reaching down with one hand to embrace and lift his member up, aligning him with your clenching entrance. He lifts his shaky head once more, trembling in the air as he gazes into your eyes with such deep longing it nearly makes you want to sink down on him in one swooping motion. But you steel yourself and refrain. Much preferring to prolong this encounter for as much as you can. So you start to grab at the sheer fabric, gathering it in your hand until you can lift it, just enough for him to get a glimpse of the place where you two are about to connect. Wanton eyes gliding down your body, fixated on the part you just revealed. His breath hitches. The fire in his eyes burns brightly when his eyes stay fixed on your maidenhood. You finally sink down slowly, getting used to the stretch of him, letting him get used to the feeling.

Since he is quite inexperienced, as expected, the feeling is a little overwhelming. His brows furrow and his mouth opens further, pleasure clearly written all over his face. You take him further into you, inch by inch, sinking down slowly, enjoying the sensation of being filled up. His twitching inside of you is unmistakable, doing it so eagerly. As if he cannot get enough. Once you make him bottom out inside of you, you let your hands fall to his forearms again, chest heaving as you watch the bright red young man underneath you. He does not know what to do, his hands squeezing your hips helplessly. Then his hands begin to wander, squeezing your thighs, rubbing your hips, anything to get his mind off of it. He fears he might become undone much too quickly if he focuses on the way you feel around him. If he thinks about it for too long. Your walls, embracing his length in a tight and warm hug, is almost comforting? If it were not for the impending high he is barreling towards.

You have not even moved really, and he is already giving deep shuddery breaths, trying to strain against you, trying to imagine anything else. It seems to work at least slightly once he turns his head away too. Your hardened nipples poking through the fabric covering your chest were not exactly helping his case either. He gives a surprised ‘oof’ once you fall forward into his chest again with a breathy giggle. The movement made him shift inside of you strangely and he gave a surprised harsh gasp. Then finally letting his head fall back, sinking into the soft pillow. “You are going to be the death of me, Lady Y/N…” he says shakily. You just giggle in reply.

“My Lady…” He begins, using all his willpower to speak, “what… what should I do?” The question hangs in the air as you lift your head, bringing up your hands to cradle his hot face in your hands again.

You simply but affectionately reply, “Felix.” giving a sickly sweet smile, “Just enjoy it. I will make you feel things you have never felt before.” Lifting your eyebrow seductively, leaning in to press a passionate kiss to his plump lips. You pull back and bite his lower lip while you do, making his breath hitch in surprise.

Then you finally move. Shifting your hips in slight circles, making him dig his hands into your plush thighs and hips, unsure of how to let out everything he is feeling right now. Needing an outlet for the pleasure running through him. You lift your hips slightly, letting him sink out of the comforting and inviting warmth out into the unforgiving cold night, then only after a brief pause sinking down onto him again. Repeat the motion over and over again, until you finally pick up the pace. He wraps his arms around you desperately, holding onto you, coming along for the ride. Not wanting to guide it in the slightest, perfectly happy letting you do things to him no one else has done before.

He whines and whimpers in surprise, everything feeling more than good… it feels wonderful. He smiles a little, as another wave of pleasure spreads all over his body. The way your body moves against his, and there is nothing he can do but follow along… butterflies erupt in his stomach. Not that he would ever stop you.

He whines into your body, suddenly daring to leave desperate kisses anywhere his lips can reach, overflowing with love and feelings, needing to let them out somehow. Filled with so much love and adulation, he would place his life in your hands this very moment if he could. Hoping to imbue the sheer amount of affection he holds for you into your skin, pressing his kisses more eagerly. Quicker. With haste.

His high comes much sooner than he would prefer. Feeling that familiar feeling he accidentally grabs onto you desperately, digging his fingers into you, grasping at the fabric. His panicked voice reaches your ears, “L-Lady Y/N! I think- I think I am about to-”

His distressed whispers against your skin are quickly shushed by your words, whispered against him in between pleasured whimpers. “Let go… I am here… you can let go.”

Cold fingertips crawl their way up his collarbone and around his neck slowly. Not putting any pressure on him, just holding him in place. His heart skips a beat. Why does this gesture, which makes him so vulnerable, make him feel so… safe? In the soft embrace of your perfume, soft sheets hugging his body everywhere, your weight pressing down onto him and your honeyed voice reaching his ears - in the safety of it all he lets go again. Hips shooting up into yours desperately, unable to hold himself back. A long choked off groan turns into soft pathetic whimpers as he pushes everything out of his body. Not even realizing that you have pulled him out of you quickly, stroking him at a fast pace, spurring on his powerful release.

In the aftermath of it all, you lean your forehead against his. Catching your breath, or at least trying to, while you manage to ask “Did that not feel good?” As if to say ‘I told you so.’

He giggles breathlessly in disbelief. Seeking out your hands to intertwine your fingers hesitantly. “It was a most delightful experience, My Lady.”

Leaving him laying there, you soon reappear again, placing a small basin and washcloth on the stand nearby the bed. He does not have the strength, nor does he care, where you got these from at this late hour. The mattress dips slightly when you sit on the edge, hand hovering over his face, until he grabs it and carefully places it down fully, batting his eyelashes at you. He finds you with a pure look of endearment, as you smile down at him. Suddenly your face morphs into a more fond one, cooing at his form while you speak softly. “My sweet boy.” Leaning over, you press a kiss to his cheek. “My sweet, sweet boy.” And he basks in the sudden burst of affection you shower him in. Eagerly soaking it all up. He smiles up at you with his big round doll-eyes. You throw the towel into the basin and tackle him instead, wrapping your arms around his neck as you push him back into the bed. Attacking his face with kisses upon kisses.

After you seemingly got all of that pent up energy out, you wring out the towel that was soaking in the basin and sit closer once more. Gently wiping over his body with the washcloth. This time around you remain silent. It is not an uncomfortable silence at all. He closes his eyes as he enjoys and basks in the touching, unable to get enough. He has gotten a taste and now he never wants it to stop. He melts, once more. Faintly hearing you hum as you finish cleaning him up, tucking him under the sheets and crawling in beside him. A few sweet affectionate words, whispered against his body, but his mind has drifted off too far already, halfway stuck in his dreams.

He wakes up, sleep still laying over his mind and heavy body as he blindly reaches out. His fingers do not come into contact with you, but they find a different texture that makes him flinch and retract his hand quickly. Bolting up in between the sheets covering his still bare body. Blinking slowly around the room, he finds it empty. Not quite awake yet, he blinks slowly once more as the lonesome cold spreads over his arms, making goosebumps rise on his skin. He swallows, his throat parched. One last long blink, he finally spots what his hand came into contact with. His clothes that were strewn about the floor just the night before, were folded neatly where Y/N would have laid. On top of the polite and kind gesture, was a single white Lily. He glances around the room, quite expecting you to sit in the big chaise, waiting for him to awaken, to embrace him once more, but you are nowhere to be seen. His heart sinks slightly.

He sadly reaches out to the flower, noticing the stem has been broken and a light blue ribbon is tied around the stems? How peculiar. The bow is clearly facing the right side of the flower. There is no need to tie a ribbon around a singular flower… is there? He sighs and places the flower onto the sheets again. Perhaps the stem broke and Lady Y/n thought it a shame to waste a flower…

Getting dressed with sluggish movements, he keeps the flower close as he stalks his way back to the main palace building, closing the door to his bedchamber behind him.

Turning the flower in his hand, a smile makes its way to his face without even realizing it. The events from last night flooding back into his mind, collar suddenly feeling tighter again, his face growing hot. Even more so when he places the flower onto his desk, opening a drawer and fishing out his trusty book. One he has become much too familiar with. He must not let his father know.

And, yet again, he finds himself staring at the flower in disbelief, face beet red as he reads the words in his tiny guidebook once more. Making sure he is reading it right.

Lily, white; Virginity, Purity, Heavenly Ribbons; Tied to the left, the flowers’ symbolism applies to the giver, whereas tied to the right, the sentiment is in reference to the recipient.

The carriages are all but prepared, reaching Oswen in a fortnight. Felix watches from the window with a heavy heart clenching painfully in his chest, as the foreign servants start packing the many suitcases into the carriages. His people help the guests, of course. He clutches the bouquet in his hand tighter, determined to see them off, no matter what. Tearing himself away from the window he walks down the empty hallways, slowly descending down the white stone stairs. As he gets closer to the lowest floor, the sunlight begins shining in his face, blinding him slightly. Having no choice but to hand onto the railing. The big entrance doors are wide open, saving the servants and staff the hassle of having to open and close them always, as many of them step quickly but politely in and out of the palace, carrying various sizes of bags and gifts.

His parents sent along many gifts for the guests, as the talks between the two nations seemed to go well.

From the open entrance doors, he can see the dark blue carriages, spread out in a big line in front of the palace. Stepping out into the sunlit passage, he finds his attendant waiting for him already. He walks up to Sir Bang, who greets him with a polite and warm smile. “Your Highness, you are up early, are you here to see our guests off?”

He just nods in response. Then gives a big sigh as he stares at the bouquet of flowers in his arms. “I was hoping to say goodbye, before our guests leave.” He states, quickly adding, “We would not want them to think anything… bad, of course.”

Sir Bang only smiles and agrees with him.

The first leaving guests he sees are the King and Queen of Oswen. He bows deeply as a greeting. Exchanging pleasantries and kind words. Keeping it to a minimum, as he notices the quiet disdain the foreign King seems to harbor towards him. The Queen says nothing to acknowledge it either, so he figures he must do the same. Then Princess Lulëza steps out with a bright smile as the sunlight hits her radiant expression. But Felix’ heart only skips a beat when just behind her, an all too familiar figure emerges. Lady Y/N. If he had not caught himself, he might just have given a dreamy sigh out loud. He waits for the refined women to approach him, and he bows deeply once more. He exchanges pleasantries with the Oswen Princess too, but his eyes sway to the figure right behind her.

The Princess glances back towards her Lady-in-Waiting, then turns back towards him with an unreadable but seemingly amused expression. Quickly catching the conversation off short, grabbing her footmans hand as she steps into the carriage hastily, closing the door behind her.

Now the two of them are left. Standing outside near the carriages. Felix spots the way the curtain of the carriage the Princess resides in, moves ever so slightly. He averts his gaze and ignores the prying eyes. Before he can speak up, she begins to talk, voice trying to remain neutral, but he has learned to hear the warm undertones of it.

“Your Highness, you are much too kind for coming to see us off…,” smoothing down her light blue, but differently styled dress, “I reckon you will visit Oswen one of these fine days?”

He smiles warmly. “Yes… we shall meet again soon enough. I ask you kindly… to please await my visit.”

The corners of her mouth twitch slightly as she holds her head up a little higher. “Right, the Princess and I have much to show you. Especially after the kindness you have bestowed upon us during our brief visit.”

He can only manage to breathe out an “Of course.” Before he smiles sheepishly, handing over the bouquet of red flowers, their petals hanging over her arms now. Having looked up and chosen the flowers he wishes to give to her carefully.

She quirks an eyebrow at him teasingly, a happy grin breaking out soon after. He mirrors it all the same.

Honeysuckle; Bonds of Love