A Frozen Tale, Pt. 2

Transcript

As the weeks passed, the Queen and the Merchant grew closer in friendship, but no closer to solving the mystery of the unending winter. There was some chatter among the servants about clandestine visits to the royal bedchambers, but none of the nobles dared bring it up. And after all, it had been some time since they'd seen their Queen with anything but sadness in her eyes.

One evening, the Merchant was summoned to the archival hall. They hurried to see what the Queen needed of them, and found her at the large oak desk, surrounded by scrolls, her brow furrowed in concentration. Ah, good.

I've been waiting for you. I've been reviewing the castle records and comparing them to the notes from our last conversation. Any force powerful enough to change the seasons is old, deep magic.

The records say that elemental magic is passed down through certain bloodlines. I just can't shake the sensation that we're close to something important. Some detail I've missed.

Some answer. What? Whether I've slept is of no consequence to you.

I'm fine. You know how important this work is to me, to my countrymen. By clearing my name we can turn our attentions to the real cause of this unending, cursed winter.

We've had springtime once before and we shall—we shall have it again, mark my words. I'm fine. Really.

I'll figure it out. Enough. When will you let me be? You couldn't possibly understand.

All you know is coins and wine and a rented bed. What do you know of home? Of duty? Would it be acceptable to you if I slept the day away? If I secluded myself from court and allowed my advisers to rule in my stead? I'm sure they'd love that.

They already think me a cursed queen who's incompetent as well. No, I'm not finished speaking. That's close enough.

If I gorged myself on cakes and spiced wine and bid you stay in my chambers until all the troubles of the world faded from my mind? Just allowed you to take me into your arms like nothing else mattered except your lips on mine? Your—your hands? Your—how dare you? We have to stop.

We shouldn't. The servants will talk. They always talk.

They probably already are talking. You confound my senses. It's not right.

I must have my wits about me. Yes, it does. But the records—I suppose—I suppose it can wait just a little while.

Oh, what are you doing under my skirts? What? Oh, gods.

Yes. Your tongue. Yes.

Yes, please. Oh, my. Yes, more, please.

More. Don't stop. Stop.

Stop. Get up. Get up.

I need to feel you. Let me feel. Ah, you're so warm.

Yes, touch me too. Kiss my neck while I pleasure you. Your hands on my body, I can't get enough.

Does this please you? Having a queen caress your most sensitive spots? Having a queen at your fingertips? Tasting me on your lips? You don't have to be so gentle.

Take me. Make me remember how your fingers feel thrusting inside me. For these moments, make me forget I'm a queen.

Yes, please, please, don't stop. Please, I beg you. Oh, I'm so close.

So close. Yes. Yes.

You're trembling. Shall I place my mouth on you? A reward for your many acts of service over this past month.

Get on the desk. I want to taste your pleasure. It tastes so good.

Yes, yes, I can feel you. I can feel you wanting to release, please. Let me taste you.

Follow your pleasure, please. Yes, yes, please, come for me. I want to taste it all.

Oh. clouds in my mind. They've been heavy today.

I thank you. Not just for this, for all your assistance and your friendship toward me. Your kindness and warmth.

It does not go unnoticed. Well, as I've said, we've much to discuss. Where did that squirrel get off to?