Winter Rose Ch. 01

"Yes, there's a problem!" he snapped.

"Is the water too cold?" Catanya kept stirring, her voice soft and mellow.

"No, it--"

"Is the water too hot?" She kept stirring, smiling slightly.

"There's no water at all!" he burst out.

"Oh, dear!" She didn't sound concerned as she beckoned him closer. Reluctantly, he approached. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Your Highness, how could that have happened?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Hellebore snapped. "You know, I've just about had enough of--"

"Hush."

Hellebore stopped talking, more out of shock than anything else. No one other than his father had ever shushed him before, and Catanya's voice brooked no opposition, no argument.

"Your Highness," Catanya said sweetly, turning to smile up at him and flutter her lashes, "would you pray do me the favor of stirring this," she offered the spoon, "whilst I explain?"

Hellebore hesitated. Catanya's eyes glimmered, and he swore there was a spark of mischief there. But he found himself reaching for the spoon.

"Very good," she purred. Hellebore's head spun a little as he started to stir the thick herbal concoction. It smelled even sweeter up close, and he was already regretting agreeing to help. If he backed out now, though, he would just look like a fool. Or like he felt... threatened by some goblin's little herb mix. "Now, Your Highness, you were saying...?"

"I... yes." Catanya sounded so smooth, so confident, Hellebore felt all out of sorts. He felt like he wasn't in control of this conversation at. He blinked rapidly. He had to recover it immediately. Control, that was to say.

"... and?" Catanya giggled softly, and he realized he'd trailed off.

Cheeks burning, Hellebore went on, "Th-The bathwater is... there's no bathwater. And it's late."

"That sounds very difficult," Catanya said sweetly. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness. But as you can see, the mix isn't ready yet."

"I..." He could see them, swirling around in the great pot, filling the air with sweet-smelling mists. Was that how the bathwater was scented? He supposed he'd never... "Yes, but... but you..."

"But me?" He could hear the sweet, innocent, puzzled smile ringing her words. "But me what, Your Highness?"

He turned to glare. "But you're doing this on--"

"Keep stirring, You Highness," she chirped, taking his hand and guiding it around. Her hand was slender, warm and soft. So much smaller than his, and yet in such perfect control. "You must not forget to stir."

"I..." He trailed off lamely, turning back to the pot. He felt disoriented. Dizzy. Handled, in the way no one in the castle dared handle him. "You, um..."

"Yes? I, what?" Her voice was soft and very close to his ear--she must have gotten up on the stepping stool. "Focus on the stirring, Your Highness."

He stared lamely down at the bubbling brew as the spoon went round and round. The concoction's sweet scent washed over him, delectable, soothing. He recognized the scent as that to which he'd dozed off the last two mornings.

Around and around the thick soapy concoction roiled, his wooden spoon forming a gentle whirlpool.

"You're..." Hellebore had to think hard to remember what he'd been saying. It suddenly felt distant, unimportant, but he couldn't just come all this way and not call them out, could he? "... doing this on purpose."

"Oh, am I?" Catanya cooed. "What am I doing, YOur Highness?"

Her body felt warm against him. Warm and soft. Her skin was smooth as her hand gently guided his hand and helped him stir.

"I... you..." Hellebore's head swam in slow, viscous spirals, his thoughts rippling every time her skin brushed his. HIs voice sounded so weak.

What was wrong with him? He'd been with girls before. It had been... well, it had been fine. He'd taken charge, as he was supposed to, and...

It had never felt so... flustering as this.

It was how she was treating him, he decided. She was being too... forward. That was it, was't it? Too forward, too bossy. That was why it felt off.

"Oh, Your Highness," Catanya whispered, "you seem to be having trouble." Her hand reached out to grip his.

"The..." He squirmed at her firm, yet gentle grip. Everything about this felt overwhelming. The way she pressed in on him had him feeling so delicate, so... protected. It was...

...

... dreadful. Right. That was it. He nodded to himself. He didn't like feeling delicate, didn't like feeling vulnerable, soft, taken care of. How could any Prince like that?

And... why wasn't he pulling away, when he clearly disliked it so much?

As he took a steadying breath, trying to get his thoughts in order, he found himself staring into the swirling concoction. His head felt heavy. He felt... sleepy.

A thought drifted into his heavy, sleepy head.

"The... the herbs..."

"Oh, do you like them?" Catanya asked innocently. Her fingers brushed through his hair. Hellebore knew he was bending down too close, giving her too much access, but that touch wasn't... too bad, at least. He would reprimand her familiarity in a moment. Any minute now. "I worked so hard on the blend. In fact, I've been working on it ever since we first met, Your Highness~"

"They're... what's..." Hellebore wasn't sure why words felt so difficult right now. It was like trying to get out a single tiny shard of eggshell that had slipped in with the rest of the egg. The words just slipped right from his quivering lips.

"What's in them?" Catanya asked. "Oh, nothing special, Your Highness. Keep stirring."

Hellebore realized he'd stopped, had started just staring stupidly into the swirling concoction. He couldn't believe the gall of this goblin, to actually order him around!...

But he kept stirring. He wanted to know what was in the blend, so he had to keep her talking. Keep her happy.

"First, there's ginger, of course," she murmured. "Ginger's a rich, earthy scent, you see. It grounds the rest, lends its gorgeous pungency and doubles the effects. Haven't you always felt so refreshed after your baths lately, Your Highness?"

'Refreshed' wasn't exactly the word Hellebore would use. He had fallen asleep in his bath every morning for the past week. It was for the best--much as he liked baths in theory, he didn't like feeling... naked. Or seeing himself naked, something like that. Sleeping in the bath was an escape from royal duties, from dealing with his father, and from dealing with his body.

Not that he'd ever admit those things to anyone. Not that he'd ever admit it to himself. Except just now, but that didn't... count...

He put it out of his mind. The point was, the baths mostly just made him feel sleepy.

He had felt better lately, though, aside from the drama with the boilermaids themselves. He'd felt... cleaner, somehow. He gave a slight grunt in response and focused on how the concoction swirled around and around, bubbled, herbs swimming within it, the warm scent wafting up around him....

"Then there's the lemon." Catanya gave a soft, melodic giggle. "Lemon adds a certain delicacy, a certain sweet melody to things don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know," he said, trying to sound haughty and distant, the way his father always did with courtiers.

"Oh, that's perfectly alright, Your Highness," Catanya said, in a sweet, simpering tone as if reassuring him. He flushed. "Lemon is a beautiful scent, a powerful scent. Breathe in and see for yourself. Good, good. Isn't it so refined and delicate? Like spilled silks."

"I... suppose..." He didn't want her to stop talking right now. He was in a rhythm of stirring, and her whispery, breathy voice was sending tingles through his whole body.

"And then there's the rose petals," Catanya hummed, her fingers combing through his hair, fingertips tracing over his scalp, making the tingling run even deeper to the point of being almost overwhelming. "The rose petals are the second-most important part."

"Rose petals..." He breathed their scent in and smiled a little. Rose petals reminded him of the courtesans the courtiers sometimes brought to balls and galas. They always smelled so... so elegant, looked so pretty and poised. He always felt like a blushing pervert for staring, but still they drew him, causing little bubbles of longing to blossom in his mind like wild roses. They seemed so sure of themselves, so comfortable, so... happy. Happy and pretty and delicate and...

"Yes, that's right!" Catanya sounded quite pleased. "Rose petals, Your Highness. Rose petals for softness of skin." She ran her fingertips across his palm. "Mm, feel how sensitive you are? As soft and delicate as a blossoming rose."

"Um." Hellebore's mind was doing slow arcs, around and around like a daisy in a wide, languid whirlpool. "Well. That... I, um, don't think..."

"No, of course not," Catanya agreed, and her voice was so reasonable, so mellifluous, flowing like cool, clear water, Hellebore found himself nodding along. "Of course not, Your Highness! But that's perfectly fine. You're doing very well."

"Y-Yeah..." he mumbled, unsure what they were talking about now. But he kept stirring. It wasn't just that he was watching the swirling potion--the very motion seemed to carry him with it, swirling around and around... around... around...

"Very good," Catanya cooed. "Just focus on stirring. Focus on my words. My voice is so sweet, isn't it?"

"... sweet..." Hellebore's head lolled.

"And finally," she went on, her voice liquid with smugness, "there's the peppermint and red clover. And those two are very important, your highness. Breathe them in deep."

Hellebore wanted to tell her that she didn't give the orders here, that he was in command. But talking felt like so much effort, and if he confronted her, it might lead to another confusing argument, and then he'd have to talk even more...

He would tell her later, he decided, breathing in deep of the heady herbs. The red clover, a subtle floral scent, was almost totally drowned out by the cool, sweetly acrid peppermint. He had to take several full breaths until he was able to smell both.

"Gooood." Catanya sounded very pleased. Hellebore felt strangely giddy at that. Her fingers brushed through his hair, the nails tracing just down to his neck, making him gasp. "And your Highness, do you know what red clover and peppermint are for?"

He mumbled something, stirring the pot.

"Ooh, what was that?" Vesyka's voice rang out. He heard her laughing softly as she sidled up behind him, felt her hand running over his chest. His bare chest. He was still dressed in only the towel. Her hand was so soft. "I don't think His Highness knows, Catanya!"

"Ooh, you think so?" Catanya purred. "Should I explain it to him?"

Hellebore felt pleasurable shivery tingles running through him at Catanya's intonations. Her voice was heavenly.

"Oh, definitely~" Eneko appeared on his other side, giving his hand holding the towel closed an affectionate squeeze that almost made him lose his grip. "I mean, sh--he's gonna wanna know, isn't he~?"

"Yes, you're right." Catanya's fingertips continued to graze up and down the nape of Hellebores neck. "Well, Your Highness, peppermint--breathe in deep, smell the sweetness--and red clover are special. They're very healthy for princes like you. Full of a... special kick." Her voice dropped to a sultry purr, and the tingles were so strong Hellebore actually had to hold in a soft moan. "After all, haven't you always wanted to be a little... softer?"

Hellebore swayed. He mumbled something that vaguely sounded like I s'pose.

The goblins giggled. Catanya pressed the advantage. "Yes, that's right, of course you have. Who doesn't want skin so soft..." her finger traveled down his neck, down the center of his back, delicate, so exquisitely, agonizingly delicate. His back arched in pleasure. "No blemishes, no roughness. Just pure, sweet, delicate softness."

"Um..." Hellebore blinked. It was a blink that felt like it took hours, and by the time his eyes were closed, he found he was having trouble remembering how to open them.

"And your hair. Your beautiful hair..." Catanya giggled, and he felt her hand petting the top of his head, her fingers running through his locks. More hands joined hers, Eneko's and Vesyc's, drowning him in gentle headpets. "You feel how soft and lustrous it is now? So thick and full. It can be like this all the time. You can grow it out, feel it flowing behind you, and oh, how pretty you'll be~"

Something about that sounded... it should have sounded off to Hellebore. Princes didn't grow long hair. Long hair was for women, for maidens, for soft, delicate princesses. Even his shoulder-length hair was due for a haircut, his father kept saying. But the thought of growing it longer... it didn't repulse him like it should have at all.

In fact, it sounded almost... euphoric.

He swayed, his world wobbling from side to side.

"It'll make your body sooo soft," Eneko purred, stroking his hair.

"You'll look sooo pretty," Vesyca agreed, patting his head.

"B... buh..."

"And you always," Cataanya cooed, brushing a stray lock from his eyes, "take such long herbal baths, don't you?"

Hellebore stared stupidly into the swirling concoction, breathing in the hot, scented air. He managed to make a halfhearted attempt at lifting his head away, trying to get a breath of clear, cool air.

The air away from the cauldron was cool. It wasn't clear. Instead his vision shimmered as the scents only seemed to grow stronger. He blinked rapidly, giving a soft groan.

"Aww, I think Her Highness has noticed our perfume," teased Catanya. "Do you like it? Don't I smell like soft, sweet rose petals?" Hellebore shook his head weakly. "Doesn't Eneko smell like sharp, sugary peppermint? Doesn't Vesyca smell like tart, flowery lemon?"

Hellebore's head lolled. Something about what Catanya had just said sounded off to him, but he was barely holding his head so high. It was so hard to think. Every breath he took seemed to make him weaker and weaker, sleepier and sleepier.

He tried to pull further away.

A hand on the back of his head pushed him down. "No, no," Catanya cooed. "Stay down. Breathe in deep. Deep. Deeeeep. Deeper and deeper and deeper and deeeeeper..."

The first kiss came from Eneko, a playful, nipping kiss on the lips. He tasted peppermint, and blinked dumbly at her as she grinned.

"Deeper." Catanya's voice was delicate and husky, enunciating every consonant in a way that made him shiver with delight. "Feel the tingles spread through your body, through your mind. Deeper. Deeper."

Then it was Vesyca, pulling him to face her and taking him in a slow, soft, tender kiss, her lips smacking wetly as sweet lemon flavor blossomed through his mind like springtime.

She pulled away with a smile, as if daring him to lean after her. The kiss had left him gasping for breath. He felt his knees starting to give way.

"Deeper. Breathe deeper of the sweetness, fall deeper into the tingles. And the deeper you breathe, the deeper. You. Sink.

And then it was Catanya, her voice a delicate coo, her smirk wide and shameless as those plump, dark lips moved in, and he almost tasted the rose petals before the kiss even came.

Her lips met his, took his upper lip between them. Her lips were soft and supple, her tongue playful, and the taste was so sweet Hellebore almost couldn't bear it. He found himself leaning into the kiss, as desperate as an addict, moaning as she laughed softly and clutched the back of his head and held him captive in the embrace.

It was a queen's kiss, a dominant, claiming kiss.

And as she pulled away, Hellebore could only stare after her and whimper.

"Drop, my Princess," she said sweetly, and snapped her fingers.

And 'Prince' Hellebore swooned right into the goblins' waiting, welcoming arms.

TO BE CONTINUED...