Lisette

William Santino had been in Pantona for a week. He knew it had been a good decision but that didn’t make the tiny village less dull for a young man, compared to Dovetail.

At least today, which was market day was somewhat exciting. Most of the surrounding farmers and even a few merchants had descended on the small square. He’d managed to step away from the Inn where his uncle had set him up for a while to look around, when he distractedly bumped into a girl with a basket.

“I’m so sorry, Mistress,” he said kneeling down to help her gather the things she’d dropped. She met his eyes. She was darked skinned, with her curly black hair slid back off her face in a kerchief, and her sharp grey eyes seeing into him. “We haven’t met.”

“No,” she said, with a smirk. “We haven’t.”

“Lisette,” a boy about his own age followed after her. He had red hair and his face was drawn into a suspicious frown now. “Can I help you?”

“I um,” William stuttered, “I apologize. I’m William Santino, I’m taking over the inn.” The other boy’s face softened.

“Oh, right,” he sighed, “I’m Aaron, this is Lisette. Welcome to Pantona.” William stopped. The name clicked immediately.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” he bowed. “I didn’t realize.”

“Oh don’t do that,” the girl, Lisette, sighed, “he doesn’t deserve it.” The Viscount rolled his eyes. “We’re glad you’ve come, aren’t we, Aaron.”

“Hm?” The Viscount was already distracted and looking elsewhere, “oh yes, of course, please come to the manor sometime. Lisette, come along, we should finish shopping, Mother will expect us before supper.”

“Right,” she said cheerfully, “it was nice meeting you Master Santino, we’ll see you soon.”

The night at dinner, William moved his food around distractedly.

“Everything alright?” His Uncle asked. William looked at him. “Did you enjoy the market, at least?”

“Yes,” William shrugged. “I met the Viscount.” His uncle nodded.

“Ah,” the old man nodded. “What did you think of him?” William shrugged.

“There was a girl too,” he mumbled. His uncle chuckled.

“Of course,” he said. “She’s a sweet little thing. Young though.” William sighed.

“I didn’t mean,” he blushed at little. “Who is she?”

“No one’s exactly sure,” his uncle sighed. “They call her Lisette. The Count and Countess adopted her. She keeps to herself mostly. The line at the manor is she’s just a war orphan, but there are whispers that she’s the Count’s own. She’s got Phanian blood for sure.”

It was a few days later when Lisette showed up at the inn with a basket.

“How can I help you?” William smiled at her.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said, “Aaron was being very rude the other day.” She handed him the basket. “We’re neighbors, and you’re new.” He moved the cloth away from the top of the basket.

“Lemons?” He grinned.

“We have an orchard at the manor,” she explained. “Your cook will be grateful for them, trust me.” He nodded.

“Will you have tea with me?” He asked. She raised her eyebrows. “My uncle’s gone back to Dovetail. I am still new.” She nodded and sat down with him.

This became a routine for nearly a year. Lisette would come too the Inn, they’d sit and have tea and talk. In addition to her striking looks, he found her charming, sweet and intelligent. They did well together. She was of course, only fifteen years old, to his seventeen. They were young. He knew that, but as he stood in front of Count Caleb and Countess Olivia he felt resolved.

“When we spoke earlier you seemed anxious,” The count said, “have a seat, William. Is all well with the inn?”

“What?” William said sitting own. “Yes, it’s not,” he exhaled. “I wanted to speak to you regarding Lisette.” The couple’s eyes shifted towards each other and then The Countess smiled at him knowingly.

“What about Lisette?” Countess Olivia asked. William exhaled.

“I was hoping to,” he sighed. “I’d like to ask her to marry me. I know we’re both still very young, but I can’t see my uncle objecting. And if she says no, of course, but I didn’t want to, that is without you both,” he exhaled. The Count was frowning.

“Lisette is fifteen,” he said, “she’s far too young, William. I know you two are friends and if you wish to,” he sighed. “I don’t object to your relationship, but no, not marriage.” The Countess regarded him.

“What are your feelings for her?” She asked. “And does she reciprocate?”

“We’re friends, really,” William said, honestly, “and she’s a lovely girl. I only thought,” he looked down. “I think we’d do well together.” The Count nodded solemnly and shook his hand and he left.

William stared at the wall after Lisette, Princess Annalise, he reminded himself had left his office. All these weeks he’d been at his wit’s end because he was watching the girl he wanted fall in love with someone else, and while he’d felt a deep and abiding jealousy at the way she looked at Tristan Dugarry, but that wasn’t even the beginning of the gulf between them.

He’d sat in that parlor and asked to marry her. And as she’d plainly laid out her identity to him, it made so much more sense. Half Phanian, and being raised by nobles as their own, not just thrown into their kitchens? It was so obvious. She’d never considered him because she lived in a different universe from him.

Marina

“William,” Marina whimpered underneath him, her gown undone and pushed down revealing her breasts as he kissed and sucked gently down her neck. “Goddess,” she sighed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He wasn’t exactly sure how they’d gotten here. One moment they were walking through the courtyard garden outside the great hall, and he’d kissed her, and now they were in his barrack room and she was leaning into his touch. “How did the gods make anyone so beautiful?” They kissed hard and she slipped his shirt over his head and their skin pressed together. He needed her, was burning for her. He went to unlace himself and she stopped him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked.

“I’ve never,” she said. He smiled. “That is, you know that I,” he kissed her again. Marina was sixteen and had lived life sheltered in a way he could only imagine. Of course she was a virgin.

“We don’t have to do that,” he whispered. “I want you, my little beauty, but there are other things, other pleasures.” She sat up and smirked at him. “Can I finish undressing you?”

“If you want,” she said softly as he went back to work behind her ear. “But what do you mean, other pleasures?”

“I’m going to touch you, and kiss you,” he whispered, sliding her gown down to the floor. “I don’t need to be inside of you to make you moan, Marina.” He slid his hand down below her waist and lay her down on her back.

“William,” she mumbled as he kissed down and explored her body. Gods, he was a lucky man, her small curves were perfect. He pressed one finger gently against her sex, “mm,” she exhaled. He added another finger and then kissed the same spot, finding her bud and sucking gently on it, “oh gods,” she raised her hips to meet his fingers and tongue. Her breathing was ragged and she was moaning his name and gods, he was hard. When she finally let go and went limp, he looked up at her, flushed and panting.

“You enjoyed it?” He whispered. She nodded drowsily. He climbed up and kissed her gently.

“Can I return the favor?” She whispered and they kissed again. He groaned. “I don’t know how, but you could show me.” He smirked and unlaced himself and guided her hand to him.

“This is how much I want you, Marina,” he murmured in her ear. “Wrap your hand around me, and stroke.” She kissed him and followed the instructions. It wasn’t nearly the relief he wanted, needed, but he could wait for her.

William had been home a week. Settled back into his small office at the back of the inn. Back to watching and listening for things he wasn’t sure about. He missed Marina. He missed the softness of her against him in bed, and the little whimpers she made when he touched her.

He missed the shy way she touched him, and her mouth soft and warm on his cock. His door opened and Kathy Sampson walked in.

“Hello Kathy,” he said, “can I help you with something?” She shrugged and sat down on the couch, her chestnut brown hair rippling.

“I realized I hadn’t welcomed you back,” she said, her voice low. He and Kathy had had a few encounters over the years. It was a small area. But once she’d caught Aaron’s eye and he’d decided to get serious about Lisette that had been that.

“Uh huh,” he nodded, “did The Count already kick you out of the manor?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Still mooning about The Queen?” She rolled her eyes. He sighed. He hadn’t thought of Lisette that way in a long time. “I had thought when he came back alone that maybe,” she exhaled, “but that merchant bitch still has some hold on him.”

“Athena Dugarry is not likely to share,” he muttered. “And I’d advise you not to get in her way.” She looked curiously at him.

“I thought you liked her,” she said. He frowned. “Was our Queen too fond of her old friend? Did it upset her plans?”

“It wasn’t Lisette,” he sighed, “it’s not important. What do you want?” She shrugged and stood up and straddled him lap.

“What do you think I want?” She whispered. They kissed and he slid his hands to her thighs. They lost themselves in the easy bliss of sex.

Carolina

William had fallen in love with Carolina Dugarry slowly and then all at once. He’d known he wanted her, but he’d pushed it aside, sure it was some overcooked jealous reaction to her husband.

But the rhythm of their friendship so clearly mirrored his with Lisette. She’d come to the inn, they’d talk, she’d smile. And like Lisette she was lonely, somehow separate from the rest of the world in Pantona. Her reasons were different. Tristan’s work taking him far away, her desire for a child and her estrangement from her family.

The first of many stolen kisses had been an accident, walking back from the manor one evening and they’d arrived at her gate. He’d recently called off his engagement to Kathy, a hairbrained scheme that had led to her running off with some merchant train and him looking like a fool.

“I’m sorry that it didn’t work out,” Caro had said. He laughed. “I know how hard this sort of thing can be. Before Tristan I,” she paused. “Well, I just understand, even when you aren’t terribly attached to the person, it stings.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Thank you. It’s been good. To have a friend.” She smiled, the moonlight threading through her golden blonde hair. She stood on her tiptoes and went to kiss him on the cheek. He turned his head and met her lips instead. She stopped and backed away. “Oh, Caro, wait,”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to,” she opened the gate, “good night,” she called over her shoulder running to the house. What was he thinking? She was married. And to a man who hated him anyway. There were easier ways to die than kissing Tristan Dugarry’s wife.

She never explained it. She never mentioned it. They never talked about it. There were just more kisses. Sometimes greeting or goodbyes at their private meetings, sometimes in shadows of the manor or Dugarry House. Sometimes soft and sweet, other times hungry and wanting.

It was clear she felt like he did. She wanted him, cared for him, and knew was impossible. Not that they talked about it. Ever. They talked about everything else. For years. Talk. And stolen kisses.

Until that night. She’d come over, quieter, and sadder than he’d ever seen her. She’d picked up the bottle of whiskey that usually only Aaron took, and poured a glass and downed it.

“He’d rather be anywhere else,” she finally said. He looked at her.

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” he said. She looked at him. “I’ve never understood it.”

“You haven’t, have you?” She said gently. He pushed her hair behind her ear. “You don’t want to be somewhere else?”

“No,” he said gently. “I want to be with you.” She nodded and kissed him. She still tasted like the whiskey, he didn’t mind. “Caro,” he whispered. She pulled close, pressing against him and kissing again, not withdrawing. He knew she would any minute now. But she didn’t seem to want to this time.

“William,” she said softly, “oh gods, please keep kissing me.” He placed his hands on he waist and pulled her close. She seemed to follow his body’s instruction and pressed against him as she opened her mouth. “I want you,” she whispered.

“Fortunately, we’re in a building with quite a few beds,” he teased. She threw her head back and laughed.

“Yes,” she said standing up alluringly. “I’ve been thinking about yours.” He swallowed and they walked upstairs to his simple bedchamber. The Inn was empty and part of him wanted to take her to the more elaborate suite, the one usually reserved for when her people came through town. They fell back against his bed though, and he realized this was better. They undressed each other and started to push closer. He slowly traced his hands against her body. “William,” she whispered, “gods, that’s nice,” she murmured as he spread her legs and lifted her into a sitting position and he slid into her slowly, gently.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Carolina,” he said gently, “you have no idea.” She blinked her large blue eyes up at him. “Is this good?” He breathed trying to keep his stroke slow, to savor this woman.

“Yes,” she exhaled, “oh it’s so good.” She was panting and thrusting to match him. “Oh Goddess, William,” she moaned, “don’t stop, please.” He didn’t, they didn’t. He didn’t know what exactly he’d expected, but Caro’s insatiable appetite was not it.

When they did finally collapse in exhaustion, she slid close to him.

“I wish I’d come to you a long time ago,” she said softly. He exhaled.

“Why now?” He managed to ask. She sighed. “I’m not complaining, I just,” she rolled over and kissed him softly.

“I’m here now,” she said, “can it be enough?” He cupped her face.

“Let me in, please,” he whispered. “I love you, Carolina, you must know that.” She pressed her forehead to his.

“I wish he’d just leave me,” she said, “I really do. It would be easier.” Leave him, he tried to say but couldn’t, run away with me. Instead he just kissed her and drew her close.

“I want you again,” he whispered. She smiled and rolled under him.

He woke in the morning when Caro shifted in bed and began getting dressed.

“Where you going?” He asked and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She sighed happily back against him.

“Home,” she whispered. “I’ll be missed, and we don’t need gossip.”

“Let everyone in the damn village talk,” he whispered. She giggled and shook her head. “Stay right here.”

“William,” she whispered, “I can’t, if Aaron and Athena found out,” she trailed off. He stopped. Of course. “Thank you for last night, though. It was incredible.”

And then it went back. She came and went sending her coded messages, there were a few stolen kisses and stray touches. He waited up nights, wondering when she’d come back and she never did. But he lived in hope.