Kinky Temptation

Rosalinda Aurelia Valencrest. Third in line to the Indyrian throne, coddled, pampered, and utterly reckless.

Even a scratch on this princess could shatter political alliances, trigger wars, and most definitely end Ysabel’s career with her head on a pike.

The sight of her wandering alone in the shadowy alleys near the palace made Ysabel’s blood run cold with protective fury. ”Are you trying to get kidnapped?” Ysabel hissed, her grip tightening reflexively.

”What if a bandit snatched you?” Images of the princess in chains filled her mind’s eye. ”Do you understand what happens to girls who get taken by men like that?”

Rosalinda drew herself up, trying to mimic her royal bearing despite being pinned against a moss-slick wall in an alley stinking of piss and garbage.

Her fiery red drill twin-tails swayed indignantly. ”I-I was perfectly fine!” she huffed, attempting a haughty glare, but her voice trembled slightly. ”No one even noticed me!” She pushed up her non-existent chest in a defiant gesture that was more amusing than intimidating.

Ysabel’s stare remained flat, unimpressed. The princess folded her arms over her elaborate gown, looking everywhere except at her furious guard. The silence stretched taut.

Taking a deep breath, Ysabel forced her voice to a more controlled, though still urgent tone. ”Alright. What, precisely, is Her Royal Highness doing lurking outside the palace grounds? And more importantly, why was your personal guard, i mean ME, not informed of your departure?” Suspicion warred with duty in her gaze. ”This is beyond foolish, even for you.”

Rosalinda blushed fiercely, her pale skin suddenly flushing a deep, guilty crimson. Her vibrant green eyes darted around nervously before finally settling on a point over Ysabel’s shoulder.

”I-It’s just… well…” She shifted uncomfortably, her arrogance momentarily replaced by palpable embarrassment.

”Y-Your room… it’s not… very… soundproof?” The question was barely audible.

For a split second, Ysabel stared blankly, not comprehending. Then, the full meaning crashed down like an anvil.

”Wait… what?” she breathed. Then horror flooded her. Her room wasn’t soundproof?

”The walls are thick! It’s the Royal Guard barracks!” Ysabel sputtered.

Then the dam burst.

The frantic, rhythmic slapping sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the high-pitched keening screams of Caelith’s releases, Ysabel’s own hoarse, guttural commands… ”Take it! Deeper!” …all echoed in her sudden, paralyzing awareness. Everyone must have heard.

A wave of pure, undiluted mortification crashed over her. The guardsmen walking past. The other officers in the adjacent quarters. The servants bringing morning tea. The palace staff.

Ysabel felt the color drain from her face, then rush back in a violent, tomato-red flush.

They all knew. They probably always knew. They’d walked past her quarters day after day, smirking behind polite faces, pretending not to hear her debased, desperate sex with Caelith. The realization hit her like a physical blow.

”Oh no…urgh...” Ysabel choked, leaning back against the opposite wall, the wind knocked out of her sails. She covered her burning face with one gauntleted hand.

”This… this is bad.” She glanced back at the princess, who was now watching her with a strange mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. She had heard everything. Ysabel groaned inwardly.

”So… that’s why I left,” Rosalinda mumbled, avoiding Ysabel’s gaze. ”It was… distracting. You was busy.”

Ysabel slumped further against the grimy wall, the cold stone doing little to cool her flaming cheeks.

”I wasn’t busy,” she mumbled weakly, the lie tasting bitter even as she spoke it.

A dawning, horrific realization struck her like lightning. She whirled back towards Rosalinda, her voice rising in disbelief.

”Wait. You came to find me? Outside my quarters?” Images of the princess’s small feet pitter-pattering down the barracks hall, halting outside Ysabel’s door just as Caelith hit her peak, flooded Ysabel’s mind. ”You heard us… and instead of knocking… you just left?”

Rosalinda lifted her chin defiantly, trying to recover some dignity. Her face was still a blotchy red beneath her pale skin, her eyes avoiding Ysabel’s horrified gaze.

”Y-Yes!” she declared, voice tight.

”I… I concluded you were… indisposed. Very… indisposed.” The words dripped with forced haughtiness. ”Clearly, it was an inappropriate time for an audience.”

Ysabel gaped, utterly flabbergasted. The princess had been listening long enough to judge the level of ”indisposition”? She felt faint.

Taking a shuddering breath, Ysabel forced herself back into the role of dutiful guard. ”Where… where were you going? Alone. In this state.” She gestured vaguely at Rosalinda’s flushed, disheveled state – the elegant gown inside the black robe slightly askew, the hood slipping back, revealing strands of fiery hair. ”It’s reckless, Princess. Utterly reckless.”

Rosalinda deflated slightly under the scrutiny, her shoulders slumping. The defiant mask cracked. ”I… I don’t know,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. ”Away. Just… away.” She hugged her arms around herself, looking suddenly very small and lost.

Seeing her genuine distress, Ysabel softened marginally, pushing her own crippling embarrassment aside.

She sighed heavily, the sound filled with resignation. ”Fine. Since I am here…” She straightened up, adjusting her pack on her shoulder. ”I will escort you… wherever you wish to go. My leave starts today anyway.”

Rosalinda blinked, surprise momentarily chasing away her misery. ”Y-You will? Really?” A flicker of hope sparked in her eyes.

Ysabel nodded, already turning towards the alley’s mouth. ”I am your guard, Princess. Whether officially on duty or not. You should not be wandering alone.”

Especially, Ysabel thought grimly, not now that she has been publicly exposed as… that. She squared her shoulders, facing the inevitable humiliation waiting within the palace walls. ”Lead the way, Your Highness.”

As they emerged into the brighter, but no less humiliating, light of day, Ysabel’s mind raced. The mission to that dungeon, the source of the spell… it would have to wait. She couldn’t abandon the princess, not like this. Not after she heard everything.

The thought made her cringe. She’d just have to find a way to salvage this, somehow. Maybe Rosalinda would forget…? Yeah, right. And pigs could fly.

The bustling streets of Agos - the Capital of Kingdom of Indyrge receded behind them as they crossed the massive, guarded gateway. The clatter of cart wheels and the shouts of merchants faded, replaced by the open road stretching before them, dusty under the late afternoon sun.

”Where to, young lady?” Ysabel asked, her voice carefully neutral.

Rosalinda walked beside her, seemingly lost in thought. She twirled a lock of her red hair around a finger, a nervous habit Ysabel knew well. ”Do you recall…” she began hesitantly, ”that dungeon? The one where we fought… that woman?”

Ysabel froze mid-stride. Dungeon? The word hit her like a blow. Images flooded her mind: the oppressive darkness, the stench of blood and decay, the relentless press of snarling, intelligent goblins.

She vividly remembered the bone-jarring impact of a goblin dagger, the flash of that woman terrifying eyes, the sheer, primal terror of being hunted in the lightless depths.

She whirled on the princess, her voice cracking with disbelief and rising horror. ”You cannot be serious! Are you completely mad? That place was a nightmare! We barely survived!”

Ysabel grabbed Rosalinda’s shoulders, heedless of protocol, her gaze fierce and desperate. ”It was full of monsters smarter than some men I’ve served with! They had tactics! Ambushes! They overran us!”

Rosalinda flinched under Ysabel’s grip, but a stubborn glint sparked in her eyes. ”I remember. They had… structure. Leadership. It was… fascinating.” She emphasized the last word.

Fascinating? Ysabel wanted to scream. She released Rosalinda abruptly, raking a hand through her long, dark hair in frustration.

”Fine. ’Fascinating.’ But also incredibly lethal. Their ’structure’ nearly killed us all! Their ’leadership’ nearly turned the dungeon into our tomb!”

”I know that, but you want to return there too right?” the sentence of the princess petrified Ysabel.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Ysabel stumbled back a step, her breath catching in her throat as if physically punched.

The princess knew.

She felt utterly exposed, stripped bare in a way far more intimate than any physical nakedness.

”What…?” She choked out the word, her voice barely a whisper. ”How… how could you possibly…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence, the accusation dying on her lips.

Rosalinda watched her, a mixture of uncertainty and knowing in her wide green eyes.

”Don’t deny it, Ysabel,” she said softly, but with an undercurrent of steel. ”I… I feel it too.” She touched a hand to her chest, over her heart. ”A pull. A… compulsion. Drawing me back. And I see it in you too.”