A Tale of Fur and Flesh by Unknown Page A

did she never think before speaking? 
True though her proclamation was, she ought not have spoken those precious
words in public, in front of guests and palace staff.  It was the wrong place,
wrong time.
    “That’s rich!” cackled Liam, stepping out in front of
the king.  He knocked Lally’s hand away, blocking her view of precious Aelwyn. 
“You really think the King of the North could love you ?  Perhaps you’ll
marry in prison after you’re sentenced for punching the Ambassador of the
Eastern Kingdom!”
    Lally didn’t have to turn to know the king’s guards
had congregated behind her.  The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and warm
metal.  Rough hands grasped her wrists, holding them at the small of her back. 
Her instinct was to attack, to kick back at their shins, do anything to get
away.  But what use would it be to attack the king’s guard?  She’d got herself
into enough trouble, assaulting an ambassador.  In any case, King Aelwyn would
not allow her to be locked away in the pit of the dungeons.
    “Come on,” grunted a husky voice.  It was Boris.  The
guard who had always been kind to her as the hairy animal now pushed her toward
the entrance to the great hall.  Why did the king not help her? 
    “King Aelwyn!” Lally cried in confusion.  Why did he
not reply?  Why hide behind scrawny little Liam?  “Boris, where are you taking
me?”  Though still unfamiliar with the palace, she knew dungeons were located
underground.  Why was Boris pushing her up the stairs? 
    When he responded with an indecipherable grunt, Lally
asked again.  No response this time.  Where were they headed?  A bedchamber?  
Panic-stricken, Lally dropped to her knees on the marble floor.  As she fell,
Boris tightened his grasp around her wrists.  Her arms swung upwards.  The
strain on her shoulders made her wince, but this pain was preferable over the
unknown torture of the bedchamber.
    “I haven’t got time for this,” Boris grumbled,
dragging poor Lally along the marble floor.  When she screamed in terror and
pain, Boris picked her up by the waist and threw her into a chamber.  She
landed with a thud on the hard floor, and quickly leapt to her feet.  Her heart
pounded in her chest, her ears like a rabbit’s on high alert.  Where was the
predator?  She spun around in quick circles, eyes peeled for her attacker. 
There was no one in the room.  Even Boris had gone, slamming the door behind
him.  All that was left was the dark wooden bed with its red velvet curtains
drawn, a desk heaped with books, a chair with feather fill poking up through
the seat, and a table near the window. 
    Why had she been brought here?  Was somebody coming
for her?  Or perhaps this was her dungeon.  For Allerleirauh, prison was a
softer place.  Yes, that seemed plausible.  The king favoured her after all,
and so had her imprisoned her in a comfortable bedchamber rather than a dank
cell.  Lally’s heart fluttered with excitement.  The king loved her!  Of course
he did!
    Acclimatizing herself to her cell, Lally sauntered to
the window.  The room overlooked mountains to her left, and the vast forest
straight ahead. If she were to walk through them, she would find herself in her
father’s kingdom once again.  Lally shuddered.  She would rather live in a
dungeon than that castle to the south.

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    A metal click alerted Allerleirauh to the key turning
in her chamber door.  It opened slowly to reveal the good king.  Lally couldn’t
conceal her delight at his arrival. She ran to him with a smile on her lips and
in her heart.  “Oh, my dearest Aelwyn!” she cried, jumping into his arms and
wrapping her legs around his waist.  “I knew you would not lock me away in a
dungeon.”
    When the king’s strong hands clutched Lally’s body,
she realized how many months it had been since she last touched a man.  The
smell of him, of frankincense and greatness, sent a wave of warmth along