Chapter 22 #2
“The miraculous and supernatural do not scare me,” Thibaut resumed, with a tenderness that began to worry me.
He terrified but also intrigued me. Thibaut, Count of Champagne and King of Navarre, had a truly majestic power.
The past twenty-four hours had made me feel for him the reverence that was absent from our first meeting.
His every nuance held the assurance that his will would be done, and at once.
I felt a sliver of attraction to him and pushed it away with all my might.
“Arsur asked that I take care of you during his absence,” said Thibaut.
I nodded humbly, grateful that he had made sure my room was warmed and food brought to me.
“He will surely arrive later today, after he fulfills his duties at home,” he added meaningfully.
I sipped from the wine and did not dare look at him.
I was still irritated and a little insulted by Jean for abandoning me, even though I knew that he had no choice.
“My lady the fairy,” said Thibaut, softer still, and I felt weak.
“I am a great admirer of women, but I cannot permit you to distract my best knight. Besides, he is married to a good woman and entirely occupied by matters of the kingdom. He asked me to take care of you, but I must take care of him too.”
At this point, I had to admit I agreed with him.
All of this had suddenly become too complicated and fraught, and I wanted to ask if his Royal Highness might see to my safe passage back to my spring in Atlit, where I would disappear to my world and never disturb them again.
But before I could get the words out, Thibaut stood and came over to me, and when I moved to stand, too, he grasped my neck tightly.
As I stood, he pressed me against him, and I could feel every appendage of his body through the soft wool.
“I, on the other hand, can give you what you want,” Thibaut whispered lustfully. I felt all of my nerve endings light up. He must have washed the night before because he no longer had the musty, damp smell that I had come to associate with him.
“To make love to a fairy—that really would be a fitting adventure for a fine song,” Thibaut mumbled and grabbed my behind with his two large hands. “I know what you are; I am familiar with miraculous creatures of your kind,” he went on, whispering into my ear and tickling it.
“What am I?” I managed to whisper. I understood that I was under his protection and dependent on his good will, and I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I was cut off from everything I knew.
I felt pulled to him against my will and was also filled with disgust for this arrogant king and for myself.
“You are a wild animal disguised as a pious lady,” said Thibaut, gently kissing my neck.
He looked up, his eyes glued to mine, and he added, “You just want to properly serve a good master, don’t you?
” In another moment, he would lift my dress and fuck me on the armchair, but his words hit me and made me come to my senses.
“My lord!” I managed to cry. “Your Royal Highness, wait a moment!”
He stopped, but his face was still very close to mine. What kind of creature am I, really, that all I desire right now is to kiss these arrogant lips? All the unfulfilled lust for Jean was driving me crazy.
“You are right,” I told Thibaut quickly.
“Maybe I really am like that. And if it were not for Jean, that is to say, Seigneur Jean, certainly I should be most pleased to … serve you,” I added, and in that moment, I spoke honestly.
“But my soul is truly bound to the soul of your knight, your Royal Highness, and I should not wish to hurt him for any fortune in the world. And I am sure that you would not wish to insult him, sir, your Highness. Please, let me be.” I said this with my eyes half-closed, pleading.
“Very nice.” Thibaut smiled and stepped back. “Loyal too. Very good.”
I collapsed back onto the armchair, trembling.
“Was this a test?” I stuttered in dread and gritted my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering.
“Precisely,” said Thibaut and sat back down on the armchair before me, pleased with himself and smug as usual.
“If you had not resisted, I should have taken great pleasure in our congress and then abandoned you to the mercy of the judgment of the Bishop of Acre.” The insufferable king winked at me.
I picked up my cup of wine with trembling hands, then poured some for him.
“And you can be sure that there is not much mercy in the judgment of that bloated wineskin,” Thibaut added, his cheeriness terrifying. It spurred me to finally speak.
“Your Royal Highness, I believe you are quite right and that I must leave the good Seigneur Jean alone and return to my world at once,” I said, still half stuttering as I tried to speak as fast as I could without him stopping me.
“I do not wish to inconvenience Count Arsur, but perhaps you might recommend to me the shortest and safest way for me to return to my spring in Atl—in Le Destroit?”
I finished the wine in the clay cup and looked up. Thibaut smiled generously, pleased with my decision.
“I shall ensure your safe sailing passage in the company of a knight or two directly to the Pilgrim Castle. Today, or tomorrow at noon, you will be at your spring, if the wind is good.” I sighed with relief.
“I thank you from the depths of my heart, your Royal Highness,” I said and meant it, but to myself, I added, you crazy motherfucker.