Allerleirauh

Chapter 13

13

My feet felt so strained from all the dancing and entertainment as I slipped my shoes off. The night had been long and strenuous with the gentle refrains, laughter, and fine wine. I still felt the strange twinge of shame from my father’s behavior after Crestwood of Saarland der Licht danced with me. Everything was a blur as I sat upon the edge of my bed. I knew I drank too much wine.

Myriah was nowhere to be found and I imagined, she’d gone off to bed many hours ago. I relieved myself from the transparent gown, unlacing it from my body. Liberated and comfortable at last, I dressed in a warm nightgown and wrapped myself in a shawl.

A quiet rapping on my door surprised me just as I uncurled the blankets of my bed. Tugging the shawl more closely around my shoulders, I opened my door to find Lord Haven. His face was sallow with exhaustion as he held out a small, folded note out to me.

“From the König,” he replied softly. There was something written on the pallor of his face or in his eyes, but I couldn’t reconcile what it was. Before I could ask, he gave me a small bow and disappeared down the dark corridor.

I stood in the doorway a moment more, curious as to what sort of message my father needed to relay to me at this late hour. I broke the seal between my fingertips and unfolded the crisp piece of parchment.

“I bid you to my chamber.”

There was no hint of a question, or an option. This was a royal command. My heart beat wildly against the cage of my chest as I weighed what I should do; what was expected of me.

My mind raced to the poor maid in the hallway and my father’s strain as he thrust himself upon her. I curled the note in my hand and held my breath. I couldn’t possibly allow myself to think of that now.

Closing the door behind me, I crept down the long hallway towards my father’s chambers. My bare feet against the cold stone hardly made a sound as I went, making it much easier to go undetected. I did not want anyone to see me and cause more speculation and spread untrue and unfair rumors. Thankfully, many of the courtiers in the palace had long since retired to their own rooms to sleep.

I paused to release a breath as I reached my father’s door. Everything was still and quiet. I gently knocked and then waited, rocking on my heels nervously. What did he need to speak with me about? Was this concerning the visitor from Saarland der Licht? Had Crestwood mentioned interest in courting me? He had been courteous, and his smile – kind. I could feel a well of nerves and excitement tighten in my gut at the thought of the possibility of having a suitor.

My father opened the door, startling me from my thoughts as he greeted me with a small, welcoming smile.

“You came,” he said, almost surprised and I nodded.

“Of course. You requested me to do so.”

“Come in,” he said as he turned to the side and extended his hand to allow my entry into his chamber.

I slipped past him as I tugged the shawl around my shoulders a bit more tightly. “What did you wish to speak with me about?” I asked softly as I watched him walk towards his large oak desk where he did much of his work during the late hours.

His chambers were grand and even more opulent than mine. He had a large bed off to the side of the room, with many fur blankets draped upon it. All the furs were trophies of the animals he and his men hunted. While the walls were stone, they were covered with many tapestries depicting his favorite hunting scenes. His large desk was placed on the other side of the room, where baskets were full of documents and parchments that required his attention. Candles flickered in all corners and many upon his desk. Wax dribbled down on the wood and floor. Some were melted away to nothing but a small wick, while others roared with life, bringing a soft glow to the room.

“You’re not angry with me, are you?” I asked softly, sliding my hands up around my arms.

My father sat down at his desk and leaned back against the upholstered chair. His hands rested on his stomach as he observed me with dark-blue eyes and I suddenly felt as though I were on display.

“Of course not,” he replied with a smirk. “Should I be?”

I tugged the shawl closer around my neck as I shrugged. I supposed if he weren’t angry any longer over my interaction with Lord Crestwood, I would try to allow myself the chance relax in his presence. I watched the corner of his smirk grow wider as he studied me. He patted the side of his desk, a signal for me to come closer and sit.

“Come,” he said melodiously. My head was still spinning from too much wine. As I pressed a finger to my forehead, I shook my head.

“I’m much too tired to speak with you tonight, father. Perhaps I could return tomorrow?”

“Come here, liebe,” he repeated, patting the side of the desk again.

I found his sentimental name-calling alarming, but not enough to deny his request. I hesitated but closed the distance between the two of us, sitting down on the side of the desk. It felt odd to be so close to him. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and how unkempt his appearance was. There was also a heavy scent of wine upon his breath.

He sat up and slowly slid his hand to rest upon my knee. My eyes darted quickly to where he touched me. He brushed his thumb against my nightgown until I felt his thumb lift the corner of the material, exposing my skin. I parted my lips to speak, but no sound escaped. Why were my words failing me now? I could barely breathe. There were no words that seemed right in stopping him. I could only watch with wide eyes as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against my knee. The repulsive scent of alcohol filled my nose as he eased closer.

Everything in me screamed to run. Everything in me pleaded to have the chance to get away, but I was frozen in place. Finally, my fear released me as he pulled away. I pushed myself from the desk.

As I took a step back from him, his amused gaze followed me.

“Does this not please you?” he asked, the smirk reappearing on his lips. “I wish to please you.”

“I fear you’ve had too much to drink tonight,” I managed past my quivering lips. “I should go. I’m quite tired.” I took another step back toward the door. “I wish to be excused.”

“Not yet,” he said sternly as he stood. His glaring eyes held mine. Fear swelled in my throat. My feet seemed to move without thought; my conscience knowing to shift further away from him—closer and closer to the door.

“I think you should stay here with me,” my father said as he began to advance. “Where better to stay than with someone who knows what’s best for you?”

There was an invisible rope keeping me securely and unwillingly strapped to him. I took another step back, until my shoulder blades pressed against the stone wall.

He came to rest his hands on either side of me and grinned. His breath washed against my cheek as he stared down at me. In all the time that had passed between the two of us, I welcomed his attentions, but at what cost? What had I allowed to happen? The cost seemed much more than I was willing to pay.

“I think perhaps I’ve been waiting much too long for this moment,” he whispered as he eagerly leaned in to me and pressed his lips against mine.

My entire body became stone under his grasp. I was at a loss for what to do next. My hands pushed against his chest as I tried to regain my freedom, but he pressed himself more forcefully against me. He kissed me deeply, eager for my response as he pressed me harder against the wall. His lips demanded my participation.

I fought against his hands as my heart pounded; I scratched at his back, his arms, but there was nothing I could do against his strength. A whimper escaped from my lips as he grasped a hold of my wrists and held them firmly in place. A tendril of sweat rolled down the side of my temple. Why was this happening? What had I done? I could feel tears begin to well in my eyes as I gazed up at my father.

“Bitte,” I begged softly as I gasped for air. I tried to free my hand, but his grip tightened. He pushed his hips forward, nudging me harder against the wall. He was too close; I could smell the wine on his breath. The walls suddenly felt as though they were closing in around us. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I knew was that I needed to get away; I needed out.

“Bitte, stop!” I begged again; my voice cracked. My pleas were lost on him as he pressed another deep kiss on me. No matter what I tried, my father’s strength outweighed my own.

Until I bit his bottom lip.

I bit him hard and he yelped, jumping back. I took the moment to run towards the door. I tugged on the handle just as my father’s hands pulled me back. My hands remained outstretched as I fought against his tugging. My gaze remained focused on the door handle as I tried to heave myself towards her; his strength outweighed my own as he pulled me further and further away from freedom.

“Help!” I screamed. Someone had to hear me, despite the thick castle walls. “Bitte! Help!”

I had suddenly taken the place of the helpless maid in the hallway. I would become one of the many women my father terrorized; all the courtiers would turn their cheek, as they had done before, on his many offenses, including my own.

He slapped my cheek with a tremendous force, knocking me to the floor. In the very next second, he was above me, his hand covering my mouth as tears streamed down my cheeks. This was the end of everything for me.

“You will not leave, Aurelia,” he snarled, shaking his head as he repeated his words again and again. “You will not leave. You will remain here. You will stay and do this with me. This is your duty.”

My father’s strong arms pulled me up from the floor while his hand remained covering my mouth. I continued to try to fight him off. I scratched at him, bit down on his hand, and pushed against his chest. He pushed me onto his bed and held me down as he glared.

“You will not leave again, Aurelia.”

Tears flooded my eyes and the room went blurry. Panic and helplessness filled me as he slid a finger over the tops of my breasts. I was overwhelmed by betrayal. I knew, no matter what I did, I would never escape his clutches. All words failed me. I could do nothing but wait for the nightmare to be over. I closed my eyes, wishing I could be anywhere but there. Wishing that all of this could be over.

“This is what any adoring man does for the woman he loves,” he said softly as he brushed my hair away from the nape of my neck.

My face was wet with silent tears as I felt his beard brush against my neck. His lips were eager, as if he were ready to consume any part of me he could steal. The sheer strength of his hands around my wrists held me in place. I felt his teeth graze over the skin of my shoulder and cheek, and I quickly closed my eyes. As his hands began to pull my shawl away, I whimpered a plea:

“P-P-Please . . .” Let me go. Please don’t do this.

My father shook his head and kissed the corner of my lips.

“Hush, mein liebe. I won’t hurt you. Just feel . . .” he groaned as he pressed his hips against me.

My stomach twisted with disgust and despair. I could see his body bending over the young maid in my mind, over and over again, and knew I was about to experience the same fate. I felt a shift in the bed as he pushed himself up. I opened my eyes only for a moment, quickly gazing around the room. The door was not too far. And yet, my father was too close; merely a fingertip away. He pulled his tunic over his head, exposing his chest, covered in salt and pepper hair. He lifted my hand to his chest and grinned as I tried to pull away. The tremble of my chin seemed to only fuel his thirst to overpower me, and he ripped my nightgown off with a growl.

I was left bare to him, the cold air stinging me. I tugged my hands away, trying to shield the secret parts of myself from his gaze, but he would have none of it. His eyes scanned over my n***d body as his angry hands pulled mine away and pinned them down to the fur-covered bed.

I knew there was nothing that I could do. There was nowhere I could go, and there was no one who would or could help me. All the rumors of his desire for me began to make sense now, though all too late. His free hand searched and explored me, leaving nothing untouched.

In his rushed desire, my father climbed above me and pulled himself from his trousers. Before I could beg for him to cease again, searing pain enveloped me as he filled me. I flinched, arching myself up against him as I tried to bite at his hands, his shoulder, his neck, any part of him that I could reach. His only response was a pleasurable grunt and a thrust of his hips.

I squeezed my eyes shut as he continued his maddening rhythm, praying to God above to make him stop. I prayed for the roof to cave in, for someone to barge in . . . but there was no answer to my prayers; only the driving force of him into me.

I tried to push my mind to safe place; to a haven where my father could not reach me. He may have been able to possess my body, but never would he have my heart—my soul. I tried to imagine the warmth of the sun on my skin; the feel of the grass underneath my feet. I could see a long river in the crevasses of my mind. A white stoned palace surrounded by lush gardens, and the sounds of a sparkling body of water shifting underneath the stones. It was there, I suddenly found a strange sense of comfort, however fleeting.

My father’s grunt near my ear threw me back to the blankness of my mind. He seemed determined to continue until he found his own end. My body felt numb; a small trickle of tears rolled down my cheeks and onto the pillow.

When he finally finished with me, he laid beside me, out of breath with a smile. I blinked away a tear as I turned my gaze away from him. How could I ever bear the sight of him again?

My father, the man I had only wanted affection, acceptance, and love from had stolen everything from me. Now that he had stolen my maidenhead, I was as good as his forever. Not only as his daughter, but as a woman—a possible wife.

“You felt even better than I thought,” he murmured, filling the quiet space between us with his rough words.

I remained unmoving and silent as he sat up. As I closed my eyes, I was blinded with my crimson hatred for him. I would forever hate him for what he had done to me – stolen from me. My gut coiled as I tried to swallow back my bile. The sounds of his movements slowly pulled me from my thoughts. I listened as he adjusted his trousers and moved to his desk in the far corner of the room. After a long moment, his quill scratched against a piece of parchment and I knew this was my chance to get away.

With a deep breath, I sat up and grabbed the nearby torn nightgown. My thoughts were running madly against my brain: Why did this happen? What would become of me now?

I took my nightgown and slid it over my reddened skin. I held the scraps of the torn cloth in place, not wanting to reveal my sore flesh.

“You may go for now,” he said calmly, without looking at me. “Go clean yourself up.”

I could not bring my gaze to him. I knew no matter how many times I would bathe myself, I would never be able to take away the curse he placed upon my skin.

“But I shall call for you again, Aurelia,” my father snapped his fingers at me, causing my gaze to catch his for the briefest of moments.

I said nothing. I didn’t dare to speak in case the tears became too overwhelming to hold back. I would not let him see my tears.

Forgetting my shawl on the ground, I ran to the door and escaped into the dark coldness of the hallway. I ran as fast as I could towards my chamber. It was only after I found sanctuary behind my door, I noticed the bleeding between my legs. I knew everything from this moment forward would be different. The king would always be one step behind me, watching . . .waiting.