Her Royal Highness: A Romance [Open for 1 Male]

[lizzy1228]

Alrighty. I’m starting a new thread—set in 1300s or so—about Princess Isabelle whose country and palace is invaded by the prince of a neighboring country. I want it to be Romance centric, with focus on developing plot and back-story, but also retain a very “erotic fairy tale” feel to it.

Princess Isabelle (Bella): Twenty years old, the only daughter of King Marcus, she is every bit the sheltered, innocent princess. Her ebony hair falls around her heart-shaped face with bright blue eyes, thick dark lashes and rosy bee-stung pout. She looks like an innocent angel, ethereal, delicate. Yet, her bedroom eyes hold a strong sensual appeal. Having spent her entire life sheltered from the intimate ways of men and women, she remains ignorant of the dark, animalistic desires her fragile beauty inspires in the heart of the hardened warriors surrounding her.

Bella: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl...dTZDw&esq=1&page=1&ndsp=21&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:0
http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl...&ndsp=18&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:76&biw=1280&bih=607

Prince Dravin: Twenty-eight years old, the future king of one of the most powerful nations in medieval Europe. He is an accomplished warrior and very respected by all of his men. Because of his military success, he has earned a reputation as cold, calculated, and fearsome. He allows the reputation to continue because it encourages his success, but in truth he is a fair and compassionate ruler. He invaded King Gerald’s (Isabelle’s father) country out of concern that the King was allowing the exploitation of the lower class. He is tall and unbelievably handsome, every bit the alpha male.

Dravin:
http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl...&ndsp=20&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:20&biw=1280&bih=607 http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl...&ndsp=20&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:20&biw=1280&bih=607

Summary: Prince Dravin invades the palace—quickly taking control of the country with minimal bloodshed—but fails to capture King Gerald, who fled. Thinking only of his own safety, Gerald left Isabelle behind to fend for herself. Knowing she would likely be used as leverage if her identity were to be discovered, she pretends to be a lady in waiting, which allows her to retain her position as a noble while remaining safe. Dravin’s soldiers, immediately recognizing Isabelle as one of the most beautiful women they’ve ever seen, drug her and bring her to the prince, offering him his due as their leader. Dravin is immediately and overwhelming attracted to her, and knows immediately that he has to have her. Because he believes she is a lady in waiting (who are known for their romantic encounters) he believes her to be experienced, and sets out to seduce her. The attraction between them is enormous, but misunderstandings between them—and the fact that neither of them want to fall in love—continue to complicate their courtship.

IC: (This post will be shorter than most cause I just wrote a bunch and I’m tired)

Bella raced through the hallways of the castle, trying desperately to evade the soldiers currently attacking from all angles. She’d taken care to remove her crown and jewels and hoped she could now pass for one of her Ladies in Waiting. She knew that if she were to be captured, she had to prevent her enemy from discovering her true identity. If he did, her life would be over.

Her slipper caught on the uneven floor and she felt herself tumble to the ground. “Ah!”

Her hair had now fallen from its intricate up-do and fell loosely around her shoulders. Her soft palms were scraped and dirt smudged across her pink cheek. Footsteps sounded behind her and she quickly pulled herself back to her feet—now running blindly from the men behind her.

She made it about thirty feet before she felt a hand fist in her hair and drag her to the floor. She cried out in pain, but the sound was quickly muffled by a rag covering her mouth. Within seconds, everything faded to black.

 

[lizzy1228]

-bump-

 

[lizzy1228]

Bumping

 

[Lethe]

Prince Dravin slouched on the throne, listening to what felt like the hundredth interminable deputation of the day. He lived for the thrill of conquest and the white heat of battle but unfortunately, victory in battle was only the first step.

Dravin scowled and the speaker, one Lord Manahem, blenched and lost his place in his carefully prepared speech.

"... and... and so, finally, we congratulate you once on your overthrow of the tyrant Gerald, and wish you a long and happy reign."

The old coward would be just as quick to welcome Gerald back. Where had that conniving fox and his daughter gone? Dravin's victory would never be complete until he'd captured them both. Dravin's attention was drawn back to Manahem, nervously fidgeting, and he dismissed him with a curt nod. Not at all reluctant to leave the dreaded warrior prince's presence, Manahem and his retinue hastily cleared the court.


Dravin remained lounging on his throne, one leg thrown arrogantly over the side. He looked nothing like the pampered, petted princes of other kingdoms. He had hunted, rode, duelled and fought in campaigns since childhood. There was not an ounce of fat anywhere on his hard, leanly muscled body. He carried himself with all the authority of a warrior and a king and his fierce blue gaze caused men to look away, and ladies to gasp and fan themselves.

There was a disturbance at the door and then it was slammed open. Dravin's hand went instinctively to the sword leaning against the throne, but his grip relaxed as he saw the men entering. Four or five of his own elite guard, led by Thomas. His soldiers were the only men in the world that Dravin would trust with his life. They knew he shared every risk and hardship that he asked them undertake and they loved him for it.

Now, to a man, they were grinning and slapping each other on the back. Two of them carried something between them -a person. A woman.

"What do you mean by this?" the prince asked sharply.

Thomas' smile broadened. "We've brought you a gift, sire."

Dravin had opened his mouth to reply when they laid the girl down in front of him.

Her black satin dress was in some disarray but it was of recognisable quality, surely that of a noblewoman or a lady in waiting. But it was her face that drew Dravin's attention and caught his breath in his throat. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman Dravin had ever seen. Her face was angelic, perfect in sleep, upturned towards him with the beestung lips pouting as though begging to be kissed. Dravin's eyes traced downwards. The dress' disarray had revealed tantalising hints of the slender body underneath -a pale hint of thigh there and a little glimpse of the soft, firm and rounded breasts slowly rising and falling below the neckline. Never had Dravin wanted anyone so much.

He looked up at Thomas. "Your gift is acceptable. More than acceptable"

These simple words were a cue for echoing cheers from Thomas and the others. Their master was rarely known for praise and each of the men would have died ten times over for such a moment of approval from him.

The girl on the floor stirred at the sound, slowly coming to her senses. She blinked several times, revealing brilliant blue eyes. Dravin dismissed his beaming soldiers and bent down over the girl. He lifted her up effortlessly in his arms, one hand behind her neck and one behind her knees, cradling her delicate body and permitting himself to feel the soft, smooth skin under the thin material of her dress. Her warmth and her clean smell, nestling so close to him, was intoxicating. She looked up at him in confusion and the beginnings of terror.

Dravin laid his mouthwatering burden down on a nearby plush couch, seating himself so that her head rested on his lap. Her soft red lips parted, and Dravin gently but firmly laid a finger on them, delighting in the touch.

"Shh. You won't be hurt. What is your name, girl?", he asked, looking down at her upturned face.

 

[onceintime123]

The Future King

pmd you

 

[lizzy1228]

Bella let out a small, pained whimper as Dravin's guards roughly deposited her on the floor at his feet. A frown pulled at her lips as she heard what sounded like men cheering somewhere in the distance. Her blue eyes slowly opened--blinking quickly to adjust to the light. She could feel herself slowly regaining consciousness, but it was as if she was experiencing everything through a thick layer of fog and she had to fight to form even the simplest thoughts.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze fell on the man currently lounging in her father's throne.

What's happening? Where's father...?

She was lost in her thoughts, trying desperately to figure out what had happened when she felt herself being swept up off the floor into a pair of strong arms. It was then everything came back to her--the invasion, her father fleeing, running blindly from the enemy soldiers.

But who was this man? Surely he wasn't a prince. He was entirely too... raw to be a prince. Too masculine and real.

She felt herself begin to panic as he laid her on the lounge and rested her head on his lap. She hadn't prepared for this. What if he discovered her rouse? She'd been protected and sheltered her entire life and now she was at a loss for how to fend for herself.

"Shh. You won't be hurt. What is your name, girl?"

She felt his words like a physical caress. Her eyes widened and a tiny shiver ran down her spine.

"Emilie." Without thinking, she gave her mother's name. "D'Savignon."

She laid quietly for a moment, letting her words hang in the air, but when the silence became stifling, she had to move. She sat straight up, hoping to move away from the intimidating stranger, but as soon as she was upright, she became lightheaded. Again exhausted, she let herself sag against the hard wall of the stranger's chest.

 

[Lethe]

"Emilie," repeated the prince. "I am Prince Dravin."

She tried to pull away, but ending up leaning her head back against his chest. Dravin was exhilarated by her touch. He leaned down and brushed a lock of dark hair away from her perfect face, allowing his fingers to maintain thrilling contact for a few moments. He looked down at her. Innocent confusion reigned on her face, and yet there was a passion smouldering in those gorgeous blue eyes and Dravin thought that he would be able to awaken it.

Emilie gave a little shudder, high breasts stirring under her torn dress.

"Who are your kin, Emilie?"

 

[lizzy1228]

Bella shuddered as she felt Dravin's rough fingertips brush her cheek. Her eyes flew to meet his and her lips parted on a gasp as her innocent gaze clashed with his dark, sensual one. It was a look she had never received before--or at least never noticed receiving--and something about it felt inherently dangerous.

She didn't feel threatened though. She felt... thrillingly vulnerable, as if anything might happen.

His low, rumbling voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Who are your kin, Emilie?"

Immediately, she tensed. Her mind started spinning, mentally calculating what lies she could get away with. Before the thoughts had even fully formed, she started speaking, her words coming out in a nervous, breathy rush. "My father is the Duke of Suffolk and my mother--the Duchess--is the daughter of Lord Boscastle, of Darbyshire."

She rose to her feet and resisted biting her lip--it was unbecoming of a princess, as her father had told her so many times. Her eyes on her shoes, she continued, "I was raised primarily in the Palace, though, and I have not been home in many years."

Her eyes again slowly traveled up to his, lingering on his broad chest and full lips. Such a beautiful mouth should have made him look almost feminine, but framed by his strong jaw and dark, intense eyes, it only made him look more devastatingly rugged and handsome.

Unable to stop herself, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and weighed her words before quietly--tentatively--asking, "Why have you come here?"

 

[Lethe]

Emile got to her feet and stood. Dravin was sorry to lose the delicious pressure of her body resting against his but he was glad of the chance to look her up and down properly. The sight of her slender, petite body did nothing to sate the hunger for her he felt. That hunger glowed in his eyes as he looked her up and down, frank and unabashed.

She was looking at him too, under her lashes. There was fear in her eyes, but that same passion underneath. Dravin considered what she had told of him of her family. A lady in waiting then. That was just as well. For him to bed her would cause little scandal, not that he would have cared in any case. He had never wanted anyone so much.

He almost laughed at her return question, noting at the same time the way her little white teeth nipped at her oh-so-kissable lips. She was the first person in this entire kingdom to even raise the question. Dravin considered. It wouldn't do to tell her the truth. Altruism was alien to this world. If he'd told anyone the truth about his reason for invading, they'd have assumed it a cynical lie, or else considered him mad.

Instead of answering, he got to his feet and took his long, dark green cloak from where he'd hung it on the back of a chair.

"Pardon me, my lady Emilie," he said, "But your dress is in some dissaray. Allow me."

Sweeping the cloak over her shoulders, he took his time arranging it. He let his fingertips play over the soft, smooth skin of her pale shoulders and let them venture just above her rounded breasts before relinquishing the cloak. As he did so, he spoke in a warm whisper, just next to her delicate ear.

"Why did I come? Because a kingdom is wasted on one who can't keep it."

A thought occured to him.

"You must have known the princess. Do you know where she is now?"

The image of this gorgeous, irresistible angelic beauty waiting attendance on some milksop princess was almost ridiculous. Dravin wasn't going to harm the princess when he found her, although he'd see her safely married off to some harmless old fool too old for children, just to make sure the threat she represented was removed.