Bonn awoke to the smell of jasmine and patchouli replacing the aroma of dry straw and horse manure.

  “Unchain him,” a sultry voice, the texture of slubbed silk, commanded the boy servant.

  Cautiously, the boy, wearing a miniature version of the same white tunic and gold belted uniform as the guards, bent over Bonn and used a long key to unlock the shackles on his wrists and ankles. He then jumped back as if he expected Bonn to attack him.

  “It’s all right, Bojo,” Esmeralda said, patting the boy’s glossy black hair. “He won’t harm you.”

  Esmeralda's green eyes, even brighter in the soft morning light, bore into Bonn’s with such intense heat he had to glance away. He sat up, rubbing his wrists until the blood flowed through them again.

  A slight smile twitched the corners of Esmeralda’s full, pink lips. “You must be hungry.” She nodded at the boy. Again, cautiously, he stepped forward on the flattened straw and set down a basket before the Skaard warrior.

  “Thank you,” Bonn said to Esmeralda.

  “Leave us now,” she said to Bojo without shifting her gaze from the dirty Skaard warrior seated on the straw.

  The servant boy beat a hasty retreat through the stable door.

  “Please,” Esmeralda said, gesturing toward the basket.

  Bonn grunted thanks and lifted the linen cloth draping the top of the basket. Fragrant steam floated to Bonn’s nostrils and his empty stomach grumbled in anticipation.

  Esmeralda slid down the wall and sat cross-legged on the straw. Her peach-colored gown trimmed with gold stitching on the neckline and hem made a stark contrast to the rustic surroundings. Chestnut-colored hair poked out from the edge of the sheer white silk veil draped over her head and secured with a thin gold diadem. She seemed to take great delight in watching Bonn eat the soft cheese, flatbread, and fruit, washing it all down with a flagon of honeyed-tea flavored with tangy spices.

  He wiped his mouth on the linen cloth, stood, and stretched. He fed the remaining piece of fruit to the white stallion who was now alert and jangling its halter. Birdsong and fresh morning air floated in through the open window.

  “Flame likes you,” Esmeralda said. Unfolding her legs with the grace of a trained dancer, she slowly stood. Her sandaled feet rustled the flattened straw as she approached Bonn.

  Her perfume reached Bonn’s nostrils. The heady scent made his head swim for a moment.

  “Flame?” he said, patting the horse’s long nose.

  “He’s the fastest horse in all of Mudárah.”

  “Oh?” Bonn focused on the tall, white stallion in order to avoid Esmeralda’s penetrating gaze. “Where’s your little friend?” he asked.

  She blinked her bright green eyes for a moment, then smiled slyly. “You are referring to my snake? He is playing in the garden. I love to set him loose so he can scare all the servants.” Her laugh sounded like a tinkling bell.

  Bonn froze, not knowing how to interpret this alluring and strange creature standing so close to him.

  She reached out to pet the horse and the flesh of her forearm brushed against Bonn’s tricep. Her skin was soft as silk.

  “I’ll show you today how fast Flame is when we ride today,” she said.

  “We’re riding today?” Bonn asked.

  “Yes,” she said, gently removing his hand from the horse’s soft muzzle. Her small hand disappeared into Bonn's large calloused one as she led him around the back of Flame’s stall. Walking backward, her eyes trained on Bonn’s, she pushed one shoulder against a slated door. It opened to a larger stable. A dirt walkway intercepted twenty-four stalls, twelve on each side. Each contained a horse. Some tall white stallions, some smaller geldings, and mares.

  Bonn whistled and said, “That is some impressive horse meat.”

  “I’m glad you approve Bonn Skaard,” cooed Esmeralda. “Please choose your mount for this morning’s ride.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Bonn trailed his hand along the rough-hewn wood railings. “But did you not say yesterday that your servants will be suspicious of me and report to your brother, the king?”

  Esmeralda shaded the brilliance of her eyes with thick dark lashes. “You remember well, Bonn Skaard. But do not underestimate me. I have plans for you.”

  Bonn stopped inspecting the horses and turned to meet her gaze. “May I know what they are, my lady.”

  Esmeralda emitted a girlish giggle and lifted her eyes shyly. “I let my household know I hired a new riding instructor. I’m sure a falcon was already released from the tower to inform my brother.” She pouted prettily. “He tried to control everything, but,” she smiled suddenly, revealing small, pearly-white teeth. “I will fool him.”

  Bonn shifted uncomfortably. “Riding instructor, eh?”

  “You can ride, can’t you?” she said, cocking her chin at him.

  “I’ve ridden,” he said.

  “There’s just one thing,” she said, pulling him along the walkway diving the stalls, keeping her eyes trained on his.

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  She stopped when they reached a large, watering trough.

  “Remove your clothes, please.” She stood before him with her fists resting on the curve of her hips.

  Bonn blinked, trying to assess the situation. He found Esmeralda Saganah with the flashing green eyes a mystery, a rare and exotic animal defying easy classification. She was alluring, but he wasn’t sure if he should pet her, poke her with a stick, run for the hills, or take her over his knee and give her a good spanking.

  Deciding it was best to play along, Bonn pulled the linen shirt, now lanced with pieces of straw, over his head.

  Esmeralda made a quick intake of breath at the sight of the shirtless Skaard. His muscular, battle-scarred chest, heaved as he dropped the shirt to the ground.

  “The trousers and boots too,” she said, her tone of voice taking on the timbre of a scolding schoolmaster.

  Bonn sighed. “If you insist.” He dropped the home-spun trousers and kicked off the suede boots he had purchased in the market stall. It seemed like such a long time ago now. He wondered what his friends Paló and Miko were up to.

  “What are you thinking about, Bonn Skaard?” asked Esmeralda with a coquettish toss of her head. A few of her chestnut curls escape from the confines of her veil to frame her oval face.

  “Just that’s it’s a bit breezy in here,” he replied gruffly.

  Her chin pointed to the ceiling and she let go of a laugh.

  He now stood naked before the young woman, who looked all of eighteen, if that. Her thick lashes batted over her eyes shining like cut gems. While Bonn shifted uncomfortably under her penetrating gaze, Esmeralda slowly circled him, tracing a gold-tipped finger over his many scars.

  “Please, do not nick me again, milady,” he said. "I do bleed rather easily."

  His attempt at gentle humor did not land well with the princess. She pulled a riding crop from the wall and lashed it lightly against his tight buttocks. “I’ll nick you and whip you as I see fit!”

  Bonn turned and grabbed the whip. They were so close now his nakedness brushed against her silk gown. He fought to keep himself from becoming aroused.

  Bonn locked his gaze on her and said, “As your new riding instructor, I command you to stop this childishness.” It was a different tack, but it might work, he reasoned. He knew a spoiled brat when he saw one, and experience had taught him was what someone like Esmeralda really craved was discipline. He hoped so anyway. By the flash of her eyes he could just as well be immediately beheaded. At least he’d go out with his pride intact, if not his trousers.

  “You’re hurting my arm,” she said with panting breath that smelled as sweet as her perfume.

  “I’ll stop if you behave yourself,” he said with a cajoling tone of voice.

  “All right,” she said with a pout. She loosened her grip on the riding crop, and Bonn tossed it across the barn.

  She made a quick intake of excited breath. Her cool hands rested lightly on his chest.

  It was all Bonn could do to tame his erection. She noticed and smiled sweetly.

  “Well, if you are going to be my teacher then there is one thing that I insist upon,” she said.

  “And what is that?” Bonn asked.

  “I insist you have a bath!” Laughing wildly, she shoved his chest with her palms and he stumbled backward into the watering trough. As he fell, his hand became entangled in her dress and she tumbled in after him.

  When she emerged from the dunk, she was laughing and screaming at the same time. Bonn couldn’t tell if she were ebullient or enraged, but he was concerned that her caterwauling would be heard by a member of the household. So, not having any other option available but to dunk her head under the water, and deciding against it, he clamped his mouth over hers.

  She immediately melted in his arms. Hidden beneath the water, her hand boldly searched for and found, his male member which she began to stroke with her gold-tipped nails.

  So, I am her snake now, Bonn thought, matching the girl stroke by stroke as he slipped his hand into her now soaking wet gown and ran his calloused fingers over the erect nipples topping her round young breasts.

  “Oh, Bonn Skaard!” she cried and mounted him, her smooth young thighs gripping him like a vise.

  By that afternoon, Bonns was dressed in fine clothes his new lover had squirreled from the palace: trousers, and shirt made of finely-woven linen, a leather jerkin, and high suede boots. He rode with her along the wide white beach along the sea with a heaviness weighing down his heart.

  Feeling like less of man, he rode his mount, a chestnut gelding ten-hands tall, behind Esmeralda who rode like the wind on a white stallion, Flame.

  This girl needs no lessons riding a horse or riding a man, he thought as he dug in his heels to keep up with her. Following the fluttering red scarf on her riding costume, he acknowledged that he had chosen the best strategy, but it didn’t make him feel any better about betraying his wife.

  Esmeralda’s bright laughter floated on the wind as she brought her horse into a shaded cove tucked in between two high rock walls. Bonn followed. He barely had time to halt his horse when she dismounted and pulled him onto the sand for another session of lovemaking that would last until the sun dipped behind the rocks and a milky crescent moon appeared on the horizon.