“Fear not. Your lovely queen will waken soon to a new destiny just as you will, and those voluptuous embraces of long ago, stolen from your captors, will be yours again. Bellavalten where you first set eyes upon each other has always been your destiny and will open its gates to you this very day. You must be brave, my beloved king, and trust in the love and bravery of your queen. Remember this. Trust in the bravery of your queen, as you trust in your own bravery. You both must have courage to know once more the freedom and abandon you knew long years ago when you were both enchained.”

The figure faded. Again, I tried to speak, tried to see clearly, but the image of the woman was dissolving, the darkness thickening, as if smoke could become the boiling waters of a roaring sea. The light flashed and dimmed. Indeed I heard the very sound of crashing waves. I found myself sinking, turning, falling, and with a start I awoke in my own chamber and on my bed.

I was shaken. Everything about me appeared real and solid. Yet the dream had been real as well. “Bellavalten,” I said aloud. It had been so many years since I’d even whispered aloud the name of Queen Eleanor’s realm. What in the world could this vision mean?

Only gradually did I realize that someone was knocking hard at my door.

I got up, straightened my rumpled clothes, and turned the knob.

There stood my secretary, Emlin, a young but very capable man, obviously terrified that he’d displeased me by pounding on the door.

“I did tell you not to disturb me for anything, did I not?” I said gently. It was never necessary to be cruel with Emlin.

He held out a letter for me, dripping with ribbons from its wax seals.

I was dazed. I couldn’t think. I stared at the letter. I kept hearing the voice of the dream woman. I shuddered.

“Sire, you must forgive me,” Emlin said. “Your old ally and friend, Queen Eleanor, has been drowned at sea. Her son was drowned with her, and this is an urgent letter from the Queen’s Court begging for your immediate attention. It’s been brought here by a Lady Eva who waits below with the Captain of the Queen’s Guard for you in the great hall. There is also a Lady Elvera in attendance. And two princes, sire, Alexi and Tristan, who say they are your old friends. All beg that you forgive them for journeying here unannounced.”

I was amazed.

I found myself turning around and staring at the empty bedchamber as if I expected to see the magical woman who had only just been talking to me. Remember this. For one second, I thought I heard her laugh. I stared stupidly at the letter again and then finally I took it from Emlin’s trembling hand.

“Died at sea, have they?” I murmured.

And Lady Elvera, of all people, had come here, the woman I’d served in Eleanor’s old Court, the woman who’d many a time . . . I was blushing at the thought of it, of myself down on my knees, naked, abject, kissing her slippers. Of course I’d seen her in the past years, entertained her in our old Court. So formal all of it, so stiff, until we’d been very drunk and alone to laugh together. But even then we had not really spoken freely, but merely through vague allusions and little jokes understood only by the two of us. And now she was here on the official business of Bellavalten!

Remember this. Trust in the bravery of your queen, as you trust in your own bravery.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. So she was here, was she? And the others were here, my fellow slaves! I felt a strange pringling all over the surface of my skin and a stirring between my legs. I heard the crack of the paddle, the smack of the strap. I saw the magnificent Lady Elvera again as she’d been when I first knelt before her, and heard her words as if she were whispering them again in my ear. I saw them all, it seemed, the merciless masters and mistresses of the castle and the Queen’s Village.

I tried to stifle my laughter.

“Well, go and serve them food and drink at once,” I said.

“Done, Your Majesty,” said Emlin. “The Captain of the Queen’s Guard begs you to remember him.”

“Does he?” I asked, unrolling the parchment. As if I could ever forget him. Oh, I almost laughed recalling the times I’d had with the Captain of the Queen’s Guard in Queen Eleanor’s realm, and to think he was here, that robust and commanding individual who’d often disciplined me and scolded me and threatened me as he had the most abject of his slaves.

I opened the letter, passing rapidly over all the titles and blandishments to the heart of the matter . . .

“. . . our fervent hope that you and your beloved Queen Beauty may consent to receive and rule the kingdom as Queen Eleanor long ago decreed.”

I took a deep breath.

“Wake my beloved below,” I said to Emlin. “Bring her to me. And tell my guests that we will attend them shortly. They’re most welcome under our roof.”

My pulse was throbbing. In a jarring flash I saw the mysterious female figure once more and heard her voice. Then she was gone.

I looked again at the letter. “. . . that surely you will preserve the custom of naked pleasure slavery which has made the kingdom a legend throughout the world.”

Dusk. Beauty had dressed hastily, and there had been no time for her to confide in Laurent about the strange dream she’d had when she was sleeping in the garden. She sat beside the King now listening as the others spoke. What an extraordinary moment this was for her.

Queen Eleanor’s letter lay before them all, and in a low but insistent voice Prince Alexi spoke of how the wealth of the late queen and all her power were theirs to claim, if only they would retain the famous customs of Bellavalten. Every syllable from his lips brought back warm memories to Beauty, as did the mere sight of his comely face and his dark, entrancing eyes. It was a pleasure to see Alexi clothed and in full possession of the honors bestowed on him by his birth and heritage. But what were these, she thought, compared to the gift he’d possessed as a naked slave who’d once taken her in his arms in secret?

The presence of all these strange guests filled Beauty with a faint and pleasurable confusion. Captain Gordon, commander of the Queen’s Guard, was as alluring as she remembered—his blond hair flecked only here and there with silver, and his quick blue eyes filled with a quiet good humor. How many times had she coupled with him? She couldn’t remember. And how many times had he whipped her with delicious precision? She could not remember that either. But it seemed her heart remembered for she could feel it racing.

As for Prince Alexi, who continued to speak, she had never for a second forgotten their one night of stolen pleasure in the closets of the sleeping Queen Eleanor. How she’d melted in his arms, charmed by his soft voice, and silken skin. She could scarcely suppress a faint smile as she studied him, studied his dark reddish hair, and his compact yet strong frame. Yes, he was richly attired, as were they all, but she saw him naked as she had long ago, the respectful and secretive slave of the late queen who seemed to enjoy his subjugation and his secret disobedience completely.

Laurent spoke, interrupting her reverie. As always, her beloved husband had an easy and agreeable air of command.

“And you, Lady Eva,” Laurent asked, addressing the exquisite young woman who sat at his left, “have been in full command of the slaves for the last year?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the woman answered, lowering her gaze deferentially, “but should you accept the crown, I am willing, as are all here, to bend to your will entirely—and to the will of your queen.” She glanced at Beauty in the same shy manner.

And no doubt she has been very effective, Beauty thought, and all the more on account of her young age. Lady Eva had full wavy red hair and remarkably clear skin and a well-modeled face with rather luscious pink lips. Her breasts were large and well shaped beneath the silk of her simple gown, and her hands as she gestured were beguilingly graceful. No wonder Laurent was drinking her in with his eyes so boldly. Beauty smiled. Laurent was struggling with all his might not to stare shamelessly at Lady Eva’s breasts.

“We place our greatest hope in you,” the lady said. “And the royal family is entirely behind us.”

Tristan, blond and beautiful Tristan, whom Beauty had so loved, was looking at her from across the table. And when Beauty looked at him now, he smiled without hesitation. There came to her a vivid flash of their time together, naked, their hands bound, in the crude cart that was taking rebellious slaves away from the castle and to hard servitude in the village. How it stirred her blood to remember those moments in which they’d managed to express their love while jostled and tormented among the small gaggle of prisoners! And then there had been that other time, that unworldly time, when, made the playthings of the Sultan’s men, they had been pressed together to make love, their skin burnished with gold, and their lips and limbs hungering for each other.

Beauty felt a keen excitement she could not deny, and a little impatience that the same points were being circled again and again by those gathered at the table.

She lifted her hand for silence but didn’t wait for Laurent to give her permission to speak.

“I understand the wishes of the late queen,” Beauty said, her eyes fixing on Lady Eva who was the obvious leader of the party. “This is all completely clear. And I understand what you’ve said about Queen Eleanor and her son tiring of the old games, the old rules, yet not wanting to abolish them. And of course, if my lord, the King, accepts to rule Bellavalten we would do it to uphold the ways of pleasure servitude. But surely all of you must realize that we would undoubtedly bring our own refinements to the customs of the past. We would seek to make improvements.”