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Buch lesen: «The Twelve Dancing Princesses»

Nancy Madore
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Nancy Madore

THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to Cindy, Linda and Sharon—three women who provide a never-ending supply of material for a book like this.


PROLOGUE
PRINCESS ATTENTIA
PRINCESS CONSCIA
PRINCESS DEVOTIA
PRINCESS DOITALLA
PRINCESS DREADIA
PRINCESS FEMINA
PRINCESS HYGENIA
PRINCESS ORA
PRINCESS RESENTTA
PRINCESS TARTIA
PRINCESS TOILLA
PRINCESS WEARIA
EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

LONG AGO, IN THE DAYS OF ROYALS AND WIZARDS, THERE LIVED A KING who had no sons, being instead blessed with twelve healthy daughters. The princesses were much admired throughout the kingdom, for each of them possessed dispositions that were at once curious and content, fun-loving and kind. The king held his daughters above everything else, and all of their activities were of interest to him.

When the princesses grew up, each in her turn took a husband, leaving the castle but none of them going very far, so the king continued to watch over them and fancied he knew all that concerned them.

One day a peculiar rumor reached the king’s ears; a rumor that appeared to be known by everyone but him. It seemed that the whole of his kingdom was speculating over the princesses’ shoes, or more particularly, that it took four kingdoms just to keep them in shoes. What was puzzling about this was that the princesses’ new shoes were always worn to shreds the day after they were purchased. It little mattered how sturdy the material the shoes were made of, or how well put together they were, or even how little worn they had been when the princesses removed them in the evenings. Each and every morning the shoes would be found in tatters. And it seemed that the princesses were more baffled than anyone by this.

Immediately upon hearing of this oddity the king ordered the princesses to appear before him. They confirmed that the rumors he heard were true but could provide no clues as to the cause. The king, who prided himself on his problem-solving abilities, discussed the case with his daughters and their husbands in great detail. Could they have been sleepwalking during the night? Further debate proved that they had not. Could a third party be tampering with the princesses’ shoes? This also proved to be impossible, as they had begun placing their shoes under lock and key. Were the shoes made of defective materials then, that perhaps disintegrated after so much time? On and on the king questioned his daughters but no new light was shed on the mystery.

The king was at first intrigued, as well as bewildered; but over time the mystery began to wear on his sense of logic and order. Each and every evening he would ride out to the homes of all twelve of his daughters to inspect their shoes. In almost every case the shoes were in pristine condition, only to be discovered the following morning thoroughly worn through, as if they had been used for many years, rather than only one single day. And every morning that he found the shoes in this condition, the king became increasingly frustrated and determined. He spent all his time between morning and night looking into the matter, and the poor man could find no peace until he discovered the secret of his daughters’ worn shoes. These events took their toll on the king, and at length, he issued a decree that whoever solved the riddle would be awarded half his kingdom. This was not a challenge for the faint-hearted, however; for in order to discourage insincere applicants the king added the stipulation that anyone attempting to solve the riddle and failing would be put to death.

At first, there were a surprising number of brave men who came forward to accept the challenge, but each and every one failed to successfully solve the riddle and lost their lives in the bargain. During the period of time when proposals to explain this matter of the shoes were flooding in, the princesses opened their eyes each morning with dread, wondering if another innocent man would lose his life. Their carefree, happy childhood seemed a lifetime away. But after a while, the number of men willing to step forward and accept the challenge became fewer and fewer, and the riddle of the princesses’ shoes became merely a topic of conversation—for everyone but the king.

Then one day from a faraway land, there came to this kingdom a wizardess called Harmonia Brist. She had traveled a long way from an unfortunate place, where her powers of perception and healing were not only unappreciated, but actually condemned. She left that place in search of a home where she could prosper from her talents. It was here that she paused in her journey to take food and rest.

The wizardess Brist was not long in the kingdom before the topic of the princesses’ shoes caught her attention. She was immediately intrigued, and listened with great interest to all that the innkeeper and his daughters would tell her about the matter. When she was satisfied that she had heard enough, the wizardess stood up and said, quite calmly, “Kindly instruct me on the directions to the castle, for I would like to explain this riddle to the king.”

Everyone present was astounded. They abruptly dropped what they were doing—and even the innkeeper closed up his shop—to personally escort the wizardess to the king’s door. As they proceeded to the castle, the gathering grew larger, with bystanders stopping to inquire what the matter was, and then joining in when they heard what the wizardess was about. Each and every one of the townspeople virtually ceased all activity to follow the wizardess on her adventure to the castle, until there was quite a long parade down the middle of the street.

At last the procession reached its destination and the wizardess was received with much pomp and courtesy, as might well be expected. She was placed in a comfortable room high in a castle tower to await her appointment with the king. Invitations were printed, the princesses were notified and a great feast was prepared. It had been a long time since anyone had dared to attempt the riddle, and in spite of the gruesome outcome that was likely to result, everyone was filled with excitement and anticipation.

In a matter of days the night of the great feast arrived, but in spite of the festivities, drink and music, everyone present was impatient for the moment when the wizardess would have her say. Everyone, that is, except the king. He had, over time, given up hope of ever learning the secret of his daughters’ shoes, wearied by the many deaths of those who had already attempted to solve the riddle. He did not wish to see another life lost, least of all the life of this woman. He watched in bewilderment as she calmly enjoyed the festivities. Even the bravest of men who had accepted the challenge had had the good sense to be nervous! He remembered how confident and self-assured she had been on the day when the townspeople presented her to him. He had not been able to stop wondering about her since then. He felt that he should not allow her to accept the challenge. He must dissuade her somehow. The possibility of her losing her life was not worth the risk. The likelihood that she would solve the riddle was impossible. Other wizards and learned men had tried and failed. And yet, all the while, he was as intrigued as everyone else to know how this Harmonia Brist—this wizardess—planned to resolve the mystery.

So the king delayed the awaited moment longer and longer while he debated what he should do. At last the hour grew quite late, and the wizardess approached him.

“A word, Your Highness,” she said, addressing him as if she were the one who was royalty. The room was packed to overflowing and yet you could have heard a pin drop at that moment.

“By all means,” he replied, astounded by her boldness.

“I am impatient to discuss the riddle,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Is that not why we have all gathered here?” There was a collective intake of breaths, including the king’s, and the princesses looked at each other apprehensively.

“I will be as forthright with you as you have been with me,” said the king, liking her more and more. “I have begun to lose my appetite for the answer to this riddle in my grief over putting so many to death. It does not bode well for me to knowingly send another, especially a woman, to her grave.”

“So you have withdrawn the decree regarding the riddle?”

“Well,” admitted the king, “I have not officially…”

“Have you refused other contenders who have come forward?” she continued, interrupting him and questioning him in the same tone one would use with witness in a trial. His blood was becoming heated by her audacity.

“No,” he replied, intentionally neglecting to inform her that he would have done so if it had been necessary, but no one had come forward to accept the challenge as of late. He had assumed that everyone else, like him, had given up ever discovering the truth about the shoes. But he did not like her tone and refused to explain himself to someone who was not even a constituent of his, and who had no better sense than to speak to him in such a way. Harmonia went on, seemingly unaware of his darkened mood.

“Aha,” she exclaimed. “So this kingdom, too, is afraid to accept a challenge from a woman!” The silent room suddenly came alive with a buzz of voices, low, hushed and excited. Harmonia was too upset to notice. How was she to succeed in the world if she was never given an equal opportunity?

The king, as it happened, had always considered himself a great advocate of women. He had altered many laws to support women, at the advice of his beloved daughters. He had even, over the years, heard traces of whispers that perhaps he had gone too far on this score, causing an inequity for men. It did not bode well for him to be accused of discrimination against women.

The king stood up in order to look down at the wizardess, and regain his sense of authority. “Harmonia Brist,” he thundered, “I will accept your challenge but it will be on my terms, not yours.” There was silence in the great hall now as the king continued, somewhat grudgingly. “Your bravery is to be commended but I will not be coerced into agreeing to conditions which I now find objectionable. Past wrongs do not make a right.” He took his time, deliberating as he spoke. He felt correct in withdrawing his original decree, with its cruel and unusual penalty for failure. However, in removing the high penalty he could not very well continue to offer half his kingdom; it would not be fair to those who had preceded her. He concluded, therefore, “If you still wish to solve the riddle, you may do so with impunity and, if you succeed where others have failed you may have any single thing from my kingdom that you desire.”

Now it was Harmonia who was surprised. She stared at the king, momentarily speechless.

“Well?” prompted the king. “Keep us waiting no longer. What happens to my daughters’ shoes during the night that causes them to become so worn by morning?”

The wizardess recovered from her shock quickly, excited now by this new opportunity. She stood perfectly straight, looking the king directly in the eye as she accepted the challenge. She spoke out in a loud, clear voice. “The shoes are merely a symptom of the princesses’ discontent,” she explained. “They are nostalgic and adjusting poorly to their married lives. It is by the sheer powers of their innermost secret desires that they come together each and every evening to dance their cares away, right here in this very castle, just as they used to do when they were children.”

There was silence. One did not know whether it was the simplicity of the idea that offended or the notion of the princesses’ “discontent.” Either way, it was clear that the king was not only disappointed, but annoyed. However, his voice remained calm.

“I suppose that is a clever reply,” he said evenly, “since you begin by flattering me that my daughters miss living here with me. Oh, that I could have them here forever but it is better that they should leave me to marry. Yet you insult me sorely to imply that my daughters return here without my knowledge or that we have not already thought to monitor their nightly activities and established that they have not left their beds during the night!”

The wizardess was unperturbed by the king’s demeanor and, in fact, smiled. “You will not see your daughters when they come here together in secret, because they enter through the doorway of their most secret wishes and remain through the power of their longing,” she explained. “For some reason, these cerebral activities are being made manifest only through their shoes.”

“You are not such a foolish wizardess after all,” remarked the king. “You find an explanation that cannot be proven or disproved.”

“It is proven by the worn slippers,” replied the wizardess.

“You have given an unsatisfactory explanation that cannot be proven!” bellowed the king.

“Father!” exclaimed the youngest princess at that moment. All eyes turned to her.

“It is true!” she murmured. “I have dreamed it!”

Suddenly the room buzzed with lowered voices. The young princess turned to her sisters, who seemed very confused indeed, wearing expressions of their struggle to recollect memories that were just out of reach.

“I apologize if my explanation did not satisfy,” continued the wizardess, raising her voice above the noise in the room. “But I assure you that the cure will be more to your liking.”

The room became silent again.

“The cure?” asked the king. “Do you mean to say you can stop my daughters’ shoes from being worn through during the night?”

“Of course,” said the wizardess. “Would I have ventured forth if I could not?”

“If you can accomplish this, you will indeed have solved the riddle,” promised the king. “So what is the cure?”

“It is different for each of the princesses. I must prescribe them individually. Within one week of following my recommendations, their shoes will cease being worn down during the night.”

“So it shall be!” bellowed the king. “You have one week.”

A cheer rang up in the room, for no attempt had been received so well thus far. The remainder of the night was filled with jolly celebration as hope sprung anew; until the next morning, when somber reality returned in the shape of twelve pairs of shoes worn clear through.

PRINCESS ATTENTIA

PRINCESS ATTENTIA WOKE UP THE MORNING AFTER THE GREAT FEAST FILLED with excitement. She was the only one of her sisters who had fully recognized the validity of the wizardess’s claims. She knew it was true; for she could recall in vivid detail the dreams where she and her sisters gathered together in their father’s castle each night, dancing away the hours. She also knew that she was not nearly as happy now as she had been in her childhood home. What surprised her was to learn that her sisters suffered similarly. They had all seemed, to her, so content and settled in their married life. No doubt she, too, appeared to be the same.

She was certain the wizardess could help. The fact that Harmonia Brist had identified the problem of the worn shoes gave her cause to hope. How wonderful it would be if she could become as joyful and content with her husband as she had been with her father and her sisters.

Princess Attentia put on her prettiest dress and sat down at her dressing table to style her hair. As she did so she thought about the wizardess. How beautiful she was! And oh, how Princess Attentia admired her. She wished that she were more like her.

Just then her husband’s head popped out from under the blankets. “What are you doing up so early?” he asked.

“I want everything to be perfect for the wizardess when she gets here,” she told him. “And you, too, should get up and make yourself ready.”

“Isn’t it a bit early?” he asked her sleepily.

“I don’t know when she will arrive, but I’m sure she’ll come here first since we are the closest to the castle.” With one last adjustment to her hair she approached the bed and sat close to where her husband lay. “I do so want her to like us.”

“How could she not?” he asked, reaching out to grab hold of her and draw her closer to him.

She smiled but pulled herself gently out of his grasp before he could rumple her dress. “I just want to be sure,” she replied.

He looked at her speculatively for a moment. “You seemed genuinely moved by her theories last night,” he remarked. “Are you unhappy, Attentia?”

“Of course not,” she replied automatically. She looked at her husband and was instantly charmed by his appearance. His face had a childlike quality while it was still flushed from sleep that clashed delightfully with the masculine stubble on his chin. His gentle gaze and husky morning voice captivated her. She loved him so much. Shouldn’t that make everything right? It seemed that it did not. She knew that he loved her, too, and that he wanted to please her. And yet there were times…

The door chimed just then, causing the princess to jump. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, running from the room.

Harmonia breezed in, looking exuberant and self-assured. She wore lovely bright colors that complemented her golden hair streaked with gray. She had a young, watchful expression, as her eyes took in everything around her. She carried with her a doctor’s bag of sorts, quite large and stuffed to overflowing. Princess Attentia wondered what was inside.

Princess Attentia apologized profusely for not having any refreshments prepared as she led the wizardess into their kitchen and immediately set about the task of making coffee.

“I have breakfasted already,” the wizardess told her, sitting down at the kitchen table. “What I would really like is for you to sit here next to me.”

The princess dropped what she was doing and sat down immediately.

Harmonia smiled at the girl’s eagerness to please. “Where is your husband?”

“Oh, he will be down in a moment. He didn’t expect you so early.”

There was silence a moment as the women looked at each other.

“Are you going to give us some kind of test?” the princess asked nervously.

“No, not really,” replied the wizardess. “Usually I can identify the difficulty by observing symptoms in people. Sometimes I have to ask questions. But once I know where the problem lies I can often produce the appropriate remedy.”

“So you’re like a doctor.”

“A bit,” agreed the wizardess. “Except that instead of medicine I use a lot of intuition and a little magic.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean there’s any chance of me being turned into a frog,” said the prince from the doorway, looking perfectly turned out as he joined them.

Princess Attentia laughed cheerfully as she looked her husband over with appreciation. He gave her a wink. The wizardess was charmed by the pair. But where was the problem? Was the princess simply unknowledgeable in matters of sharing pleasure with her husband? Or was there something else? She watched them carefully.

“You both seem very much in love,” she observed.

“Oh, we are,” the princess insisted earnestly. Indeed it is so, thought the wizardess.

“And you no doubt find each other very attractive,” she continued.

“Oh, immensely so,” said the princess.

“Perhaps too much so,” agreed the prince.

The wizardess stared at the prince for a moment. “Well!” she exclaimed at last with a look of satisfaction. “I have something here that will be of great benefit to you both.” She set her overstuffed bag on the table and began to shuffle through it determinedly.

“Have you detected our problem so quickly?” asked the princess.

“Oh, it is not so much of a problem at all,” the wizardess assured her. “You will by no means have difficulty in overcoming it. Ah. Here it is.” And she pulled from her bag a most extraordinary leather contraption.

“What is that?” asked the princess.

“It looks like some kind of a…surely it couldn’t be…” The prince stumbled over his words in stunned mortification. “A…chastity belt?”

“It is worn like a chastity belt,” admitted the wizardess. “But it does not serve the same purpose. This belt is charmed, as you will soon find out. The inscription on the leather will tell you all you need to know.” The wizardess set the belt on the table and stood up. “Wear it whenever your husband is nearby Princess Attentia, and all will be well. It is lightweight and as soft as skin, so it shouldn’t trouble you overmuch.”

“I don’t know…” said the princess doubtfully. She looked at her husband, who was still staring at the device in horror.

“The king has decreed that my instructions are to be followed to the letter,” Harmonia reminded them.

“Well…I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try it,” consented the princess. Her husband remained speechless.

“I must go now,” said the wizardess. “I have the rest of your sisters to visit. Goodbye.”

As the princess escorted the wizardess out, the prince picked up the mysterious belt from the table. It was indeed as soft as skin. He examined it closely.

“How does it work?” asked Princess Attentia, rushing back into the kitchen after having led the wizardess out as quickly as she could manage without being rude.

The prince squinted as he examined the inscription. “It says, ‘There is no key. The belt will open of its own accord at the opportune time.’” He looked up at his wife. “What do you suppose that means?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, put it on and let us see,” he suggested. For the moment at least, his sense of curiosity was piqued.

Princess Attentia tentatively accepted the belt from him. It was lightweight and soft, just as Harmonia had promised. She took the belt upstairs into their bedroom, with her husband following close behind her. She went into her dressing room while the prince waited for her on their bed.

The leather contraption fit just like any ordinary chastity belt, with surprisingly soft yet sturdy straps that wrapped around her waist and thighs to hold it in place. Between her legs there was a delicate, yet sturdy barrier that fit perfectly over her opening; so perfectly, in fact, that she could still perform all bodily functions without its getting in the way. The feeling of the supple leather straps wrapped around her thighs and waist gave her a little thrill. She lowered her skirts and went to her waiting prince.

“Well?” he asked expectantly. She blushed. “Let me see,” he insisted impatiently.

Princess Attentia raised her skirts. Another tingle shot through her as she bared herself for her husband.

The prince stared at his wife, naked except for the chastity belt from her waist down. Her little triangle of curls was the first thing he noticed. She was quite bare to his view except for the dainty straps that held the contraption in place around her waist and upper thighs. Upon closer inspection, which he immediately set to by kneeling before her, the prince noticed the little barrier that closed her off from him.

“The question is how we get it to open,” he murmured.

“What?” she gasped, becoming excited to have him examining her so closely.

“The inscription said it would ‘open of its own accord at the opportune time,’” he reminded her. “I’m just wondering when the ‘opportune time’ is.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted truthfully, although she was beginning to wonder. Could this be the answer to the many nights of unfulfilled passion, where she was always so close but never able to find her release before it was all over? Perhaps there was something to there being an “opportune time.” The princess was eager to find out. “Shall we test it to see?” she asked.

“I imagine we will think of nothing else until we do,” he agreed, and with his usual enthusiasm the prince hastily removed his clothes. Then he removed Princess Attentia’s dress. But as he stared at the leather straps that bound her and kept him out, he abruptly came to a halt.

Normally this would have been the ‘opportune time’ for the prince, but the chastity belt was still closed up tight.

The prince led his wife to their bed. She lay down on her back nervously, not sure what was expected of her. He stared at her for several minutes, taking in every detail of her body as she lay there waiting for him, wearing nothing but the chastity belt. This simple pause for contemplation was exquisite for the princess. To be looked at, studied and wondered over, like an intricate machine that had to be figured out, was in itself quite gratifying.

The prince approached his wife tentatively, trying to think of what she liked but realizing suddenly that he really didn’t know. He decided it was high time he found out. He lay on his side next to her, leaning up on one elbow. His body was hardened with arousal, but he mentally checked himself, using self-control to hold back the urges that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew that he would need to concentrate on the task at hand in order to maintain that control. He would take his time, moving slowly and carefully, so as not to miss the secrets that his wife had so far kept hidden from him.

He leaned over her and brushed his lips very lightly over hers, teasing her with the hint of a kiss and then moving away to do the same along her cheeks, forehead and shoulders. She delighted in the feel of his warm breath on her skin as she waited and anticipated his next move.

While his lips covered her with feathery kisses from the shoulders up, the prince’s fingertips began to lightly caress his wife’s body from the shoulders down in the same teasing manner. He circled his fingers nimbly over her skin, not grasping or rubbing, but merely hinting at touches to come. As he traced over her form, he took the opportunity to admire the curves and bends in her flesh, and the silky feel of her skin. Each time his lips came back to brush over hers, he noted her increased breathing and little gasping noises, and from these little signs he measured her readiness for more. He had decided that each and every advance from him should be craved before it was received. As his hands circled lower and lower, lightly flicking over every part of her, the princess arched her body and moaned, telling him without words that she was longing for a more lingering touch.

Once he was absolutely certain that the princess was truly longing to be kissed, the prince took her lips thoroughly in a deep, penetrating assault with his mouth and tongue. He realized now what the chastity belt was all about, and he guessed that it would not open quickly or easily. But he did not mind this in the least.

The prince continued to kiss his wife passionately until she clung to him, trembling. He broke the kiss then and whispered huskily, “Now we will find out what you like. Will you tell me or will I have to try everything and see what works?”

She was speechless.

He laughed and kissed her again. The touch of his hands came steadier and firmer, tracing the curves of her body as if to sculpt them. As he brought his hands up over her breasts he lovingly molded them in his palms before abruptly pinching the tips. At this, Princess Attentia moaned loudly.

“Ah,” he sighed with satisfaction. “There is something you like.” And he pinched the tips of her breasts again, a little harder this time. She moaned again and writhed beneath him. He leaned in close to blow on the reddened tips. She shuddered. He continued to play with her breasts in a leisurely manner, trying one thing and then another, and gauging her responses to everything he did. She reveled in the attention, but more than that, a passion was building inside her that she had never felt before.

After a while the prince moved his hands lower in a very leisurely manner, pausing to caress her stomach before he moved even lower still, and circled his fingers down closer to the chastity belt barrier. She lifted her hips up to meet his hand, pushing herself into him but he wanted to maintain control over the pace so he circled back up and around over her belly again, causing her to moan in disappointment. He continued to circle his hand round and round, teasing her, and each time his fingers reached down below her belly button she lifted her hips up to meet them, showing him that she wanted to be touched. Still, he refrained from touching her there in order to build up her anticipation to the point that when he did at last touch her, she would indeed be truly ready for him. And even when he finally made contact there, he did it lightly and fleetingly, passing over and around the sensitive area, to heighten her anticipation and excitement even more. His patient efforts seemed to be working, for she was consumed with a desire to be touched, writhing and bucking beneath him without a thought for anything but his hand.

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