BlackRosesLadyLessa

Lady

She had taken a new lover, of course. Within weeks. It would have been within days, if she had been able to believe at first that Rhion really had left for good.

The story put forth was that she had grown weary of the young man, banished him from her side. And really, there was no reason for anyone to disbelieve the tale. He was young, and not so polished. A little impetuous at times, which could be a danger in this world. Really, most of her friends said they were surprised a woman of her sophistication hadn't tired of him sooner.

Her new lover, Sheridan, was all a consort should be and more. Beautiful, naturally, but also witty and attentive. He treated her with a respect that verged at times on worship. He had no outside interests that she could discover; pleasing her seemed to be his one goal in life. As it should be, of course. He brought her expensive gifts, expecting nothing in return save her pleasure. This one's eyes would never turn impish when she got on what Rhion rudely called "her high horse". Never would he tumble her into bed and tickle her until she was gasping breathless with outrage and laughter. The very thought would have appalled him; he would rather have struck a goddess.

And he was a good lover, too. Probably better than Rhion, who gave no thought to what he did in bed aside from the enjoyment of it. Sheridan's lovemaking was orchestrated. Was that the word she sought? His moves were flawless, in any event. Practiced, obviously care taken to give her the most satisfaction possible.

He was perfect. Even her father approved.

And by God, he bored her until her teeth ached!

She stopped brushing her hair, stared into her mirror at the perfection reflected there. Her cool sweet features, crimson lips. Only the trapped look in her wide dark eyes revealed the truth. That, and the somewhat ruffled look of her hair where she had started yanking with the brush rather than smoothing the tresses.

Carefully, she tidied the errant locks. The formal hairdo became her; Sheridan said so, most people said so. She had the beauty to carry such a stiff and formal headdress. She remembered Rhion making a rude noise, the first time she had dressed her hair this way for a dinner. "Gods, woman!
You look like a centerpiece at some boring state function where they try to impress the diners with their table service. Come here!" She'd tried to flee, half-appalled even as she laughed at his daring.

No use. All the pins so carefully tucked into her coiffure had been scattered in a shower to the floor. He'd held her tightly, rubbing his face against the still-lacquered hair until the warmth of him had overcome the stiff pomade and her ebony hair had tumbled messily around her face. Down her back, as he liked it.

They hadn't made it to that affair. Had made love instead, laughing on the rug in the middle of the jumbled hairpins. She had laughed until she cried when Rhion had sat on one and leaped up, swearing and running around holding his behind mainly for her entertainment, the pin couldn't have hurt him so much as he pretended.

There was a polite, discreet rap on her door. She jumped and bit her lip despite the graciousness of the interruption. As if she had been caught pleasuring a slave. "My lady? Are you ready? Your guests are here."

"A moment." She managed to keep from snapping at him; such rude behavior would be remarked upon. She picked up a scented handkerchief and dabbed carefully at the blood on her lip.

Then she went down to dinner on the arm of her proud new lover, with the grace and dignity of a queen out of legend.

Wondering if her spiteful guests would whisper more strange rumors of what had become of Rhion since he left her.

Wondering if she would ever laugh again.



	Lady She had taken a new lover, of course. Within weeks. It would have been within days, if she had been able to believe at first that Rhion really had left for good. The story put forth was that she had grown weary of the young man, banished him from her side. And really, there was no reason for anyone to disbelieve the tale. He was young, and not so polished. A little impetuous at times, which could be a danger in this world. Really, most of her friends said they were surprised a woman of her sophistication hadn't tired of him sooner. Her new lover, Sheridan, was all a consort should be and more. Beautiful, naturally, but also witty and attentive. He treated her with a respect that verged at times on worship. He had no outside interests that she could discover; pleasing her seemed to be his one goal in life. As it should be, of course. He brought her expensive gifts, expecting nothing in return save her pleasure. This one's eyes would never turn impish when she got on what Rhion rudely called "her high horse". Never would he tumble her into bed and tickle her until she was gasping breathless with outrage and laughter. The very thought would have appalled him; he would rather have struck a goddess. And he was a good lover, too. Probably better than Rhion, who gave no thought to what he did in bed aside from the enjoyment of it. Sheridan's lovemaking was orchestrated. Was that the word she sought? His moves were flawless, in any event. Practiced, obviously care taken to give her the most satisfaction possible. He was perfect. Even her father approved. And by God, he bored her until her teeth ached! She stopped brushing her hair, stared into her mirror at the perfection reflected there. Her cool sweet features, crimson lips. Only the trapped look in her wide dark eyes revealed the truth. That, and the somewhat ruffled look of her hair where she had started yanking with the brush rather than smoothing the tresses. Carefully, she tidied the errant locks. The formal hairdo became her; Sheridan said so, most people said so. She had the beauty to carry such a stiff and formal headdress. She remembered Rhion making a rude noise, the first time she had dressed her hair this way for a dinner. "Gods, woman! You look like a centerpiece at some boring state function where they try to impress the diners with their table service. Come here!" She'd tried to flee, half-appalled even as she laughed at his daring. No use. All the pins so carefully tucked into her coiffure had been scattered in a shower to the floor. He'd held her tightly, rubbing his face against the still-lacquered hair until the warmth of him had overcome the stiff pomade and her ebony hair had tumbled messily around her face. Down her back, as he liked it. They hadn't made it to that affair. Had made love instead, laughing on the rug in the middle of the jumbled hairpins. She had laughed until she cried when Rhion had sat on one and leaped up, swearing and running around holding his behind mainly for her entertainment, the pin couldn't have hurt him so much as he pretended. There was a polite, discreet rap on her door. She jumped and bit her lip despite the graciousness of the interruption. As if she had been caught pleasuring a slave. "My lady? Are you ready? Your guests are here." "A moment." She managed to keep from snapping at him; such rude behavior would be remarked upon. She picked up a scented handkerchief and dabbed carefully at the blood on her lip. Then she went down to dinner on the arm of her proud new lover, with the grace and dignity of a queen out of legend. Wondering if her spiteful guests would whisper more strange rumors of what had become of Rhion since he left her. Wondering if she would ever laugh again.