Ch. 1 Once upon a time�no wait, that�s hokey. Time is a bitch. There we go. Time is a bitch. You never have enough, and even when you do, you don�t want it. Time passes whether we want it to or not. It leaves us old, white hair falling out, skin and organs rotting away. The time we have we don�t appreciate. We can never appreciate time. It doesn�t let us. This story isn�t really about time. It�s about a girl. Like most stories, it has a beginning and an end, tragedy, hope, happiness, and a little more tragedy. But this isn�t your typical story. This is my story. And I�m different. I�ll begin with�well, the beginning. I was born in a small cabin in the mountains. I remember growing up with year-round winter, the trees beautifully bare, only the smallest number of animals venturing out to find food. I remember going to sleep straining to hear the sound of snowflakes hitting the ground, but never being able to. I remember hunting with my father, skinning the animals we killed so we could use their fur for warmth and their meat for food. I could track anything; my father said I had a gift for it. I remember the happiness I felt, living in a cozy cottage with my mother and father, unaware of the horrors that lay ahead. I don�t know what month it was that they came; we didn�t keep track of the months. I know it was a little before my twelfth birthday, when the snow was beginning to get heavier and we were storing food for the days when we would be unable to hunt. I was out hunting alone, for I was now old enough to go by myself. I was proud of my kills; I had enough for my family to survive a long time. Walking back to the cottage, I heard noises in the woods. I crouched down quickly, thinking it was another animal that I could kill and skin. Quietly I crept through the frozen bushes, careful not to scare the poor creature. I soon came into view of a group of men, sitting around a poorly made fire. They were eating a foreign smelling meat and talking loudly, clearly drunk. As I crept closer, I began to catch parts of their conversation. My eyes grew wide as I understood who and what they were talking about. The snow chose that moment to start falling. It came in heavy flakes, obscuring my vision and covering the ground. I became frantic, running blindly through it to reach my parents. I didn�t see the tree root sticking up out of the ground before my ankle caught and I tumbled headfirst into the snow. I ignored the pain shooting up and down my leg and ran on, determined to take care of it later, when I was warm and safe with my family. Finally out of sheer luck I reached our cabin. Or what our cabin used to be. The cozy little place I grew up in was now a charred shell of wood and rope. I could still see the door frame, and the chairs. I could still see the frame of my bed, pushed into the corner because I was afraid of monsters coming in through the window or the door. I wanted to be ready to fight them off. I wasn�t ready when the real monsters came. The men left footprints all around the cabin, their boots leaving a distinct impression in the snow. We all knew the pattern that I saw now; it was the mark of Amona, Queen of the Mountains. She had her mark engraved into each soldier�s boot so her enemies would know who had slain their men�or their families. Toward the back of the cabin, the back door lay butchered on its hinges in the snow. I followed the soldiers� footprints into the woods in hope that maybe my parents had escaped. I had explored every inch of those woods, hunting and tracking as my father had taught me. I used my gift now, tracking the soldiers� path, an easy game as they left branches broken and a visible trail in the snow. I quickly came upon a clearing, one where many animals were hunted and killed. The snow had covered everything, leaving only white shapes on the ground and burying the footsteps. I uncovered the shapes nearest to me, my heart stopping each time my hand uncovered something, and restarting when the object was a log or a rock. Just as my hope was rising that my parents had indeed escaped into the forest, my foot hit something hard sticking out of the snow. I squatted down to get a closer look and immediately recognized my father�s boot. A sob escaped me as I dug into the snow, ignoring the frostbite that threatened my hands, and the cold seeping into my clothes. They had cut his throat, the cold only giving him a few minutes before he choked on his own blood. Tears ran down my face, freezing on my cheeks, making them itch. When he was completely uncovered, I held his head in my lap willing him to wake up. I punched him, I shook him, but nothing worked. Finally I gave up and just cried. When I couldn�t cry anymore, I stood. I searched the rest of the clearing, and the clearings around it, but I didn�t find my mother. My hope rose again that perhaps she had escaped or been taken hostage. I vowed to get her back any way I could. Even if it meant killing Amona herself. Ch. 2 There are some things that harden the heart. Tragedies in our lives; mistakes that we learn from. Experiences that turn us from being weak to tougher than hide. Death is the worst thing that can happen to a heart, and the best thing to harden it. I buried my father underneath the ashes of our former home, promising to carve a headstone so he could rest in peace. On his gravesite I placed a charm bracelet I had made when I was younger. I gathered up what money and food I had, and as I walked away from the place where I grew up I wondered what I would do next. I didn�t have a plan, so I just kept walking. I walked all the way to the next town, a place called Bramber. Bramber was a town where the people were more interested in making money than helping each other. They were thieves, crooks, and all around bad people. No women dared to stay in town for too long, for they would find themselves raped and beaten by the local townsmen. It was the worst place I could go, but it was the only place I could go and it was the only place where I would learn anything. I walked into a tavern, the red-faced men looking me up and down as I sat down at an empty table. I ordered the house beer and looked around to see who the trouble makers were. I didn�t have to look far; an ambitious young man sat himself down in front of me. �You can stop looking, sweetheart, I�m right here.� He said, licking his lips and staring straight down at my breasts. I checked him out carefully. He had a sword on his back, and some sort of dagger tucked into his pants. By the way he was looking at me he had drunk enough alcohol to lose this memory by tomorrow. I leaned over and crossed my arms under my breasts to push them up. �Really?� I said. �Well that�s good because I was looking for a good time.� His eyes went wide as I spoke, clearly surprised. �Meet me upstairs?� I whispered to him, low enough so just he could hear. He nodded vigorously, and I got up. �Wait.� He said. �What�s your name?� I turned slowly, hesitating. �Andrea.� I said. My new name. I liked it. I turned back to the stairs, and walked the long flight up. I readied the room for my purposes, then removed my clothes and waited. He entered the room loudly, stumbling against the door frame and almost falling into the room. As he reached the bed and saw me, he fell forward, almost knocking me off. He scrambled over to me, his hands exploring my body roughly. I removed his clothing quickly, making sure I knew where I placed every article. I pinned him down, and slid onto him, making him groan. I ignored the sharp pain that ripped through me and the blood that ensued; I moved against him harder and faster until he climaxed. Within minutes he fell into a deep sleep, sure to awaken the next day with a sore body and an aching head. I listened to his breathing until I was sure he was asleep before I got up slowly and quietly. I located everything I needed with ease, strapping the sword and its sheath onto my back, pocketing the dagger, and swiping all the money he had, which was a pitiful amount. I would have to hunt for my own food, and hitch rides to where I wanted to go, but I was fine with that. I shut the door behind me quietly, readjusting my new gear and creeping back down the stairs. �Not staying the night, sweetheart?� a low voice came from behind me. I froze and turned around slowly, my hand going to the dagger. An old man was standing in the shadows of the now-closed tavern. �Hold up there, darling, I�m not looking for trouble now.� The man said. �Just wanted to know if you were going to pay for that room you just used.� I smiled at him, my mouth aching with its unfamiliarity. �The man I was just with will pay you when he awakens. I�m afraid I bedded him too well for him to pay now.� The old man laughed. �Did you now? Well then I�ll be sure to remind him of his amount due when he awakens.� I nodded, and carefully walked out the door. My feet sunk immediately into the snow, the cold seeping through. I would have to walk quickly if I was to avoid frostbite. I walked as fast as I could down the icy road, avoiding stares. I walked for another mile before a carriage came along. I stuck out my thumb, my hopes rising. �Need a ride?� called a voice from the carriage. �That would be great.� I said, waiting for it to pull up beside me. The door opened and a hand came out to help me in. I took it gingerly, my gut telling me something was wrong, but my feet screaming with cold. As I hoisted myself up and plopped down onto a comfortable cloth-covered seat, I took a look around the inside of the carriage. The walls were covered in a plush red cloth, the same as the seat I now sat on. Sitting next to me, a grin on his now clean face, was the young man from the tavern. He was dressed in the clothing to match his carriage; a crimson tunic and black britches, with a heavy looking cape around his shoulders. I gasped and quickly bowed my head. �My Lord.� My hand went to the curtain behind me, ready to sweep it aside if I needed to make a quick escape. �Be still woman, I will not harm you. You mistook me for a drunk and a rather forward young man, but only because I allowed you to. Had I known you were going to rob me as well, I would have had more coins with me, for your appearance says you are in great need. Now tell me, what is your real name?� �It is true I did not recognize you, Your Highness. But if you are to bring me to a palace that greets me with death then I would rather my name remain clandestine.� I replied, my head still bowed. He reached out slowly and placed a smooth hand under my chin, raising my head. I didn�t look him in the eye but instead stared past him at the wall. �I bring you not to your death, young mistress, but to an opportunity. You know my mother, the queen Amona?� he asked, eyes still on me. At her name my eyes flicked to his for a moment, and then quickly away. �Indeed sir, I should think there is not a man, woman or child who does not know the glorious name Amona.� I replied. �Glorious or not, she will not know of your presence, for you are to be my paramour. Do you know what that entitles?� he asked. �I will bring carnal pleasure to the prince when he asks it of me and remain within his chambers until he finds a bride. And then I shall be executed.� I answered carefully. I had heard of many young women being selected for this so called honor, and never hearing of them after. �Precisely.� he answered. �Do you accept the position? Or shall I release you back into the cold?� �I accept, on the condition that I am able to ask one question beforehand.� I replied slowly. He raised an eyebrow. �You may ask.� he said finally. �Why me?� I asked. �Surely there are many young women more capable than I of fulfilling this task.� �There are.� he said, and I could feel his eyes on me. �But never have I met a young woman so determined that she would give away her virginity to a stranger to achieve a goal. That intrigues me, as very few things do. Does that satisfy you?� I nodded, still avoiding his gaze but surprised that he had felt my virginity slip from me. We rode in silence, never stopping and eating occasionally. I ate finer than I ever had at home; sweetened meat and spiced mead, bread and beer and many other foods I could not name for I had never tasted them before. My duties as the Prince�s paramour began immediately, and we spent many a night in each others� arms, an awkward feat even in his large carriage. We did not speak for the entirety of the three day journey. We were close to the castle when the carriage came to a stop on the side of the road and I grew nervous. Frantic thoughts flashed through my mind. �They know what I have set out to do.� I thought. �They have been teasing me with such fineries as the food and the carriage; they mean to kill me before we ever reach the castle. I have failed.� The door to our carriage opened and cold air whisked in, whispering through my hair. �Andrea, you are to follow Clarence here to a back entrance to the castle.� the Prince said from behind me. �My maids and the other paramours will wash you and dress you and you will wait for me in my chambers. Do you understand?� �Yes.� I whispered, my voice hoarse from being unused. I stepped down onto the frozen ground, my feet crunching on frozen and unfamiliar grass. As we started walking the carriage rode away, leaving us alone. We walked nearly two miles before we were met by five women in heavy cloaks. They handed us similar cloaks as a disguise to sneak into the castle, still miles away. We changed quickly and trudged on, leaving our clothes hidden in the bushes. The castle was bigger than my father�s tales had me picture. High black spikes connected to form a gate around the part I could see, and it seemed to stretch on forever. The gray blocks of stone used to build it seemed to sparkle even in the fading daylight, making the palace glow as if by magic. Vines of lush green ivy grew up the shorter walls, creeping up from a small garden at each wall�s base. I caught a glimpse of the Prince�s carriage off of the main entrance before I was shoved through a small doorway and into a dark tunnel. I was shuffled down the tiny hallway and into a small, poorly lit room. In the middle of the room sat a round tub. Steam rose from the water within and several more women stood around it, clothed in the same robes as I was. One of the women stepped forward and shrugged off her cloak. She stood before me, her bare skin reflecting the torchlight in the room. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen; flawless chocolate skin accentuated with straight, waist length obsidian hair. Her body was perfect in every aspect; full breasts proportionate to her curvy waist and round thighs. She saw me staring and smiled. �My name is Bolanila. I am the head paramour to the Prince. You will be taking your training from me.� she said in a voice deep and rich. �Training?� I asked, wincing at the sound of my squeaky voice compared to hers. �Of course you will need training before you can be in the presence of the Prince again. We pride ourselves on being the very best paramours. You will be educated as well, for often times the Prince merely wants conversation and will not tolerate a dull girl. But for now we must get you cleaned and clothed, and then you should rest. From what I understand, it has been a long day for you.� I nodded and the other women came forward to undress me and place me in the quickly cooling water. It felt good on my exposed skin, and I relaxed and let the steam seep into my body. Hands scrubbed and massaged every inch of my body until I felt I glowed almost as much as Bolanila. I was then rubbed with a sweet smelling oil, the scent sending warmth to the lower parts of my body. When they were done I was wrapped in a fine, smooth cloth and carried into another room by Clarence. I had forgotten he had been in the washroom but his muscles through the cloth reminded me of his presence. He placed me gently onto a soft bed and left, only to be replaced by Bolanila. �Every night after this one will be spent sleeping in one room with the other paramours. We will eat together and learn together, unless the Prince wishes otherwise. Sleep now. Your training begins tomorrow.� She brushed a hair off of my face and just before I slipped into sleep I heard her whisper something that sounded like, �Good luck.� Ch. 2 I woke the next morning when the blankets that were keeping me warm were yanked from my body. I sat up quickly, painfully aware of my nudity and was looking into the eyes of a young girl, about eight or nine years of age. �My brother says you�re to rise and start your training today.� she said with a grin. �Your brother?� I asked groggily. �The Prince!� she giggled. I sat up straighter and pulled some of the blanket up to cover my chest. She giggled again and ran out of the room, passing Bolanila on her way out. �Are you feeling better?� Bolanila asked, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed. �Yes, Bonanila.� I answered formally. She smiled at me and said, �You may call me Nila. I am the Primary Paramour, but that does not mean we have to be so formal with each other, Andrea. Is there any name you would prefer I call you?� �Rea is fine.� I said. �Very well. Come join us for breakfast, and then we shall start.� �Are there any clothes that I should wear?� I asked, embarrassed by her nakedness as well as my own. �You will get used to being without them soon enough. We do not wear clothing to show our submissive status to those who do. The only occasion we would wear clothing is-� �When the Prince wishes otherwise.� I finished for her, and she frowned at my boldness. �You will need to learn to never interrupt someone of a higher status than you.� she said, rising to leave the room. �But yes,� she said, amusement in her voice, �when the Prince wishes otherwise.� I rose and followed her out of the room and down a hallway not unlike the secret passage I had traveled through into the castle. This one was much longer though and by the time we reached our destination my eyes had adjusted to the darkness; so much so that I was almost blinded by the new light. When my vision had cleared, I saw a room filled with naked woman like myself; except they were all stunning in their own unique ways. One woman had the smallest breasts I had ever seen, but her eyes were the color of honey and she had long flowing hair to match. Most of the women had long hair, but not all. One had the shortest flaming red hair I had ever seen, spiked around her face and offset by emerald eyes. They each sat comfortably on cushions, eating a breakfast of fruit, honeyed cakes, and a fatty smoked meat. No one spoke; as Nila explained to me later, we were only to speak during lessons and when talking to the Prince. Time between was meant for reflection and inner peace. There was an empty purple cushion in the far back corner and after a food-filled plate and a beer-filled copper cup were handed to me, I took my seat. The food had flavors I had never tasted before, very similar to the food in the carriage with the Prince. It has spices added that brought out the taste of the meat; even the honey seemed sweeter and the cakes more moist. When I had finished eating, Nila came to me and took my hand. She held it palm skyward and traced the lines that ran across it with her nails. Murmuring under her breath she stood and led me down the hall to yet another room. This, I assumed, was where I would learn my training. And so I did. I began each day by having early breakfast with the other paramours, after sleeping with them in a humongous bed. I learned their names, one by one, until I could close my eyes and list them off. There were fifteen women altogether; and the Prince would call upon each one in no particular pattern so they would not get bored or jealous. He favored no one except Nila; he called upon her each night for an update on the others if not for her company. After breakfast Nila would take me into the training room to begin my studies. I would spend several hours learning to read, then several more hours learning to write, and several hours after that learning to sew, knit, and crochet. Then I would join the others for lunch on our cushions. When I was done eating it was time to learn fighting. I was taught hand-to-hand combat, sword fighting, and fencing. I used my already honed hunting skills to master each lesson quickly, earning praise from Nila. Before dinner she taught me the sexual pleasures; areas on the body that were most pleasing on both a man and woman, and how certain tactics could heighten that pleasure to climax. After dinner was the resting time, when all the paramours would bathe and wait to see who was going to be called to the Prince�s chambers for the night. We continued this routine for several months before I was called before the Prince. I was nervous and excited and anxious all at once; ready to please him, to show off my new skills. I wanted to see the rest of the palace as well, for I did not forget why I had agreed to be the Prince�s paramour; to avenge my father�s death and find out where my mother was. I had just finished dinner when Nila came to me, a strange look on her face. �Andrea, the Prince would like to invite you to come to his chambers to stay the night in his company. Do you accept?� she asked me formally. �But I am not yet fully trained!� I cried. �Surely the Prince would like the company of one more experienced?� �If you are in your monthly bleeding cycle, you may politely request another night.� she said, glancing down at my lap. �I am not in my monthly bleeding cycle.� I sighed. �You are not with child?� she asked slowly. I shook my head. She sighed. �Then you must go. I do not understand this sudden change in request, but we must obey him.� She took my hand. �Now?� I asked, alarmed. �But I have yet to be clean from today�s exercises.� �He requested your immediate presence.� she said firmly and pulled me to my feet. We hurried down hallway after hallway, passing many closed doors and stairwells. Finally we reached what I thought to be the maids� quarters and quickly stepped inside. There was darkness for a moment and then a torch was lit, illuminating a narrow stairwell leading up into more darkness. Nila thrust the torch into my hand and leaned in close. �You will come up under the Prince�s bed and you are to remain there in silence until he asks for you. Do whatever he says without question. Do not look him straight in the eyes, and above all do not forget your training.� With that she spun on her heel and exited through the same door we had entered. I turned and gazed up at the stairwell, my mouth suddenly dry. The torch glowed softly and the warmth in my hand urged me onward. I climbed slowly, aware that the steps were small and the walls close. I climbed through the darkness, not knowing how high the stairs went until I bumped my head on solid wood. I cringed, hoping that I had not made too much noise and slowly pushed upward with one hand. The hinge on the door was well oiled and the door swung open quietly as I climbed through it. There was a bucket on the floor for which I assumed to put out my torch and not light the Prince�s bed aflame. I carefully closed the trap door and though I had room to sit upright, I lay flat, listening for sound in the room. I lay there for perhaps an hour before footsteps in the hallway caught my attention. They passed by the room, fading and I let out a breath I didn�t realize I had been holding. It was another hour before more footsteps approached the room and this time the door opened. The shoes were black and slightly heeled, with gold trimmed near the ankles. He walked quickly, closing the door tightly behind him and sighing. A jacket that matched his shoes was thrown to the floor, followed by the shoes and leggings. There was a rustle of new clothing just as a knock came at the door.
