It had been six months since The Badger had burst in on her with Stefan in his father’s cottage. He had dragged Stefan outside and she had endured the sound of his beating. The Badger returned to retrieve her several minutes later, but the last time she saw her lover he was sitting on his log, blood and spit and tears coursing his face with two guards standing over him.
The Badger pulled her up onto his horse, and returned her to the Castle. Her father and step-mother were waiting. She recalled the look of spite on Abigail’s face, and the fear in her own throat when she learned that Stefan had been taken by the King’s Knights and was now under arrest in their war camp by the river.
The following morning she stood on the Castle’s East Tower and watched the columns of Warriors crawl out of their camp, across the river at the shallows, and disappear over the hills on the other side. Stefan was with them then, she knew. But it was beyond hope that he was still alive now, six months later.
She turned away from the window of her father’s hunting cabin. The war was far to the North and East from where she now stood. Her banishment took her hundreds of miles to the South. It was safer to be further from the war, her father had told her. But she knew it wasn’t about safety.
The Autumn was short, and descended quickly into a frigid Winter that lasted from October to February. Snow, and wind were constantly infiltrating the Country Prison she found herself in. It was never really intended for Winter living since her father only used it for his Hunts in fairer weather.
She was well-cared for, and the Housemother, a half-senile old woman with a lazy eye who wandered around the big old house with an old blanket around her shoulders, was always kind to her.
In their haste to ship her away from the Castle as quickly as possible, Charlotte could only bring a small number of possessions. Mostly she brought heavy clothes knowing the winters at the Hunting Lodge were brutally cold. And buried down inside her big wooden chest, she hid the Sleeping Angel amongst her clothing.
Now, as she put a log on the fire in her bedroom, the little Sleeping Angel had taken up its slumber next to her bedside again. She envied the Angel, how it slept and didn’t have to feel anger at the Queen for her manipulations. Or the boredom of confinement, or loneliness. But most of all, the little figurine didn’t feel the loss of Stefan. Because in the Angel’s little world, she was locked in a dream where her lover was still waiting for her, and he was still alive.
The next morning the Housemother gathered blankets and pillows and piled them in the Gazebo next to the garden. “You should get outside and enjoy the Spring, my Love.” She had said and pulled the reluctant Princess outside into the daylight.
Charlotte squinted at the brightness of the light. Her pale skin betrayed the fact that she hadn’t left the Hunting Lodge all Winter. But she followed the Housemother into the Garden and was grateful for the effort she had made to make everything so pretty. She had even put flowers around the Gazebo.
“I also brought you some of your favorite books to read,” the Housemother said, pointing to a small satchel hanging from the Gazebo’s post. “You can read and take a nap, or even just walk in the Gardens.” She pointed out, hoping that something would improve the Princess’s mood.
And although she had only followed the Housemother outside to be polite, she agreed that a little sunshine would help.
She did as suggested. Walking the Gardens in the morning, reading after lunch and often falling asleep in the warm afternoons. And as the Spring meandered into Summer, her naps started earlier and earlier, until she laid among her pillows most of the day, sleeping and lazily watching the bugs fly around the flowers in the Garden, and the occasional deer peeking out from the treeline of the forest on the other side of the meadow.
Until one day she heard a hunting party in the woods. She sat upright and looked across the meadow. Slightly alarmed, because she had always been alone out there. It had never occurred to her that someone might find her there by herself in the Gazebo.
The hunting party crashed through the forest, men yelling and dogs yelping. Their horse’s hooves thudded into the Earth from the heavy effort of climbing up and down the path as they rode. At first she thought, and hoped, that the voices were heading away, but after several minutes of crashing around in the brush, they emerged on the other side of the meadow.
One after another poured out of the brush until a total of 5 men on 5 horses and at least 9 dogs meandered down the path and toward the Hunting Lodge. They didn’t notice Charlotte right away, but halfway across one of them, the leader of the small party, saw her in the Gazebo and turned his horse in her direction.
He was older than her, maybe 30 years old, and he was very handsome. His brown hair was long and wavy, and it reached almost down to his shoulders. He rode with a bow across his chest and a quiver of arrows on his back. He smiled at Charlotte as he approached, and she was embarrassed at how informal she looked, barely dressed and hiding herself under the sheets of her makeshift bed of pillows under the Gazebo.
“Hello,” the Hunter said in a friendly, yet curious tone. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before. Are you a friend of Maddy’s,” he asked, referring to the Housemother by her first name.
Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say, so she responded, “Yes.” Then she pulled a blanket up closer over her nightgown. For some reason he didn’t know she was a Princess, and as her eyes roamed over his broad shoulders and confident chest, she thought it might be best to keep her identity to herself. At least for the moment.
The Hunter dismounted from his horse, and walked forward a few feet. “I’m David,” he said from a respectful distance. “My party and I are here to see Maddy. Is she in the house?”
“Yes, she is.” Charlotte replied. “My name is Daphne.”
She wasn’t sure why she lied about her name, but David smiled warmly, nodded his head and then got back on his horse. “Thank you Daphne, I hope to see you again some day.” Then he and his entourage rode toward the house.
That night, Charlotte lay in bed looking at her Sleeping Angel. She thought about David and his easy smile. He had been in such calm control over his horse and his party. She thought about his strong arms beneath his tunic. He had had a spark in his eye when he spoke, as though something about her entertained him and made him curious to know more.
She felt the heat rise between her legs, and pushed the thought of David from her mind. How could she think of other men?
And for the next several days when she went to the Gazebo, she made sure to dress up a little. At least not get caught by a stranger in her Nightgown again! But mostly because she hoped David might come back by.
A week later, he did come back. Only this time he wasn’t with his hunting party, he was alone. She had been out walking in the Garden and had just returned to her bed in the Gazebo when she saw movement in the Meadow. David was on foot this time, and he smiled as he approached. Of course, she saw the flowers in his hand and was surprised that a man his age would be bringing flowers to Old Maddy.
“Daphne, these are for you,” he said as he handed the flowers to Charlotte.
At first she almost corrected him, but then she remembered her pseudonym and instead smiled shyly and said, “Thank you, David.”
They talked and walked through the garden. David told Charlotte stories of his hunts and adventures. He had been to many far away countries, and had hunted hundreds of exotic animals. He told her about his trophy room, and showed her his bow which she could tell was very fine quality. She couldn’t remember exactly when he first held her hand, it had just happened naturally. Or maybe she wanted him to and reached her hand out to his.
And as they talked, and he told her his stories, she fantasized about being able to leave the old Hunting Lodge and the Castle, and her Father and his Wicked Queen. Her imagination followed his stories; vicariously wishing she could experience his freedom. And then her mind wandered and she heard his voice become distant as she imagined running away from everything and getting lost in the world, for once just another person and not some Princess that had to be hidden away like a terrible secret.
“Would you like to come with me?” His question hung in the warm summer air, and she realized her mind had wandered away.
“Where?” The Princess asked. In her daydreaming, she had lost the thread of his conversation. But for a startled moment, she was ready to go anywhere in the World with him. Maybe he would take her to another country and he would hunt, and she would… do whatever people did there.
“Would you like to come with me to the house? Maddy always makes me a beer and sandwich,” he said, reminding her of what he had just said.
And it was true, when they got to the house, Old Maddy had set out sandwiches and beer for two on the back porch overlooking the Garden and Charlotte’s Gazebo.
“David, I have something to confess,” Charlotte said. “My name isn’t Daphne, I know I shouldn’t have lied to you and I should have told you sooner, but…”
“I know, Charlotte,” David said and smiled in a protective way. “But you did have me fooled at first.” David swallowed a big gulp of beer, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve hunted with your father several times,” he continued. “I know these woods like the back of my hand, and I serve as your father’s hunting guide when he visits. I remember you when you were a little girl,” he paused and his eyes fell to her body. “But you’re all grown up now, aren’t you.”
Charlotte blushed. She remembered him now. She had been a little girl the last time she had seen him. He had helped her father hunt a deer and when they carried the deer back to process it, she had been amazed at how well he had mastered butchering the animal. He had been a dashing and charming man in his twenties at that time. Now, he was older and more mature, she thought. He would have even more experience now.
They held hands and walked through the garden. She showed him her favorite flowers, and even a secret place she had found where a rabbit had babies in a nest she had created. “You aren’t allowed to hunt THESE bunnies,” She scolded, and made him promise to never hurt any of them.
He stayed with her that afternoon until the sun began to sink into the Western horizon. And at dinner that evening she asked Maddy about him.
“Oh, he’s Andreas’ son,” she said, as if Andreas was someone she should know. “He has been coming by here every few days for sandwiches since he was a boy!” She laughed. “Of course, he’s always going off on some adventure. He’s a funny kid, never stays in the same place for very long, but he always comes back.”
Charlotte smiled, he had come back alright. And he thought to bring flowers.
The next few days Charlotte spent extra time in front of the mirror before going to her Gazebo. She curled her hair and powdered her face. Unlike his first two experiences in the Garden with her, if or when he came back he would see her as a Princess next time. Not just a friend of Housemother Maddy who gave him free sandwiches.
The days went by, and Charlotte began to wonder if she would see David again, but a week later he emerged from the Woods mid-morning on an enormous white horse she later learned was named, Phantom.
He didn’t have his bow or his quiver, and he didn’t have any traps or the normal gear she was accustomed to seeing a hunter with. This time, he had two leather satchels strapped to Phantom, and as he rode up to her, he asked with a big wide grin, “want to go on an Adventure?” He asked with his arms spread out wide atop his horse.
Oh, YES! She thought, but quickly regained her composure and smiled slyly, “what did you have in mind my Hunter friend?”
David nodded at her suggestive taunt, then motioned to the satchels behind his saddle. “Lunch, m’lady. There is a waterfall I can show you, I promise to have you back by nightfall.”
Charlotte thought for a moment, the Old Lady wouldn’t notice if she were gone for a few hours. She would just tell her she went for a long walk to the Lake. She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at David on his horse. Her smile gave her away and he laughed.
“Of course, I’ll come on your adventure.” She said. “But I need to be back way, way before nightfall!”
He held out his hand and pulled her up behind him on the horse. His saddle had just enough room when she squeezed in behind him. Her legs spread wide behind his hips. She could feel the muscles in his thighs as he guided the horse using his legs. The small nudges of his thighs in either direction, and thousands of pounds of horse instantly responded to his authority.
She felt her crotch moisten, but she didn’t feel embarrassed. Instead she rocked her pelvis along with his, feeling the power of the horse beneath her, and the man between her legs. The friction of the saddle and his pants against her underwear rubbed her clit in just the right way. Before long, she felt the moistness between her legs become more and the wetness seeped into her underwear and moistened the back of David’s pants.
Her hips gyrated to Phantom’s undulating gate, and she wrapped her arms around David’s stomach, holding herself against his strong body and feeling the muscles in his back flexing against her chest. The heat built up between her thighs, she felt the looseness in her vagina, and her clitoris swelled against the pressure of David’s hips and tailbone.
She ground her crotch against him, exaggerating the horse’s movements, and holding her arms around him, slid her hand along his thighs, and up to where his legs met the saddle. She felt his hardness immediately respond to her touch. His cock strained against the material of his pants. She stroked his shaft through his pants the way Stefan had taught her, lightly with her fingernails, and then softly with the tips of her fingers. She felt his cock dance beneath her touch, and rubbed herself more forcefully against him from behind.
The Princess wondered if Phantom could feel her gyrations against David on his back. Surely the giant horse felt her legs tighten with each wave of pleasure as her hips moved against the Hunter’s buttocks.
They rode for an hour into the woods, over several hills, and Charlotte realized she was more lost than she had ever been in her life. “Do you know where we are?” She asked as they entered a remote part of the forest where the trees grew so thickly over the trail that it appeared to be nearly dusk even at mid-day.
The Hunter laughed a very loud, and very confident laugh. “Yes, I’ve hunted these hills my entire life. I have explored every trail, and have climbed every rock. My brothers and I built fortresses of sticks behind those trees over there.” He pointed to a grove of trees in a dark corner of the woods to their right.
“Show me,” she said, peering into the darkness. “I want to see where your fortresses were.”
The Princess tried to imagine the Hunter as a boy, climbing rocks and making swords out of sticks. His brother, a younger brother, chased him and he pretended to be afraid. His brother laughed and searched for him, giggling as he ran.
Then the boys grew older, and their games became more real. They prepared for war, they fought and bullied each other. And they learned to hunt. The old guys taught them to hide in the dark crevices of the cliff walls that rose out of the trees in the forest. They ambushed each other and tracked animals and strangers who passed through on their way from one place to another. Sometimes they would roam the hills for weeks, living off the animals they trapped and hunted.
Many legends of wood nymphs and scary creatures in the woods were the result of the pranks they played on unwary children who wandered too far into the forest. Scaring the younger ones back to the Village may have been their justification, but he had thought it was funny regardless and his brother, Marcus, was particularly scheming whenever young ladies were included in the party.
The Hunter guided Phantom deep into the woods, through darkened meadows of ferns tall enough to reach her feet, with a bright white sunburst piercing through the canopy of green leaves over their heads. On the far side of the ferns, they circled around the back of a crop of trees to reveal the ruins of a child’s fortress. Logs and sticks outlined the base of a structure that had long ago collapsed. The fallen remains of rope ladders and catwalks between the trees still clung to the limbs like broken remnants of memories from his childhood.
His eyes rose to the trees, remembering how they had climbed the tree to hang ropes. His cousin had fallen off and broken his arm. Then he thought a bit more and recalled that they had ALL broken some bone or another climbing those trees and pushing each other off the catwalks in mock battles.
“This is it,” he said and swallowed his memories. Charlotte and David dismounted from the horse and walked into the ruins. “This was my Kingdom.”
Charlotte looked at the ruins and imagined what it could have been like. “Maybe we can have our lunch here instead?”
They retrieved their lunch supplies from the horse satchels and set up their picnic. The Hunter told the Princess more stories of his childhood, and how he roamed and ruled the woods. The Princess told the Hunter about the books she read and stories of the Adventures she wished she could experience.
The minutes slipped into hours, and before they realized how long they were talking, the sun stretched across the sky and clouds blossomed and drifted away from the hills.
As promised, David returned Charlotte to the Hunting Lodge before the sun had fully set. But only just barely. Old Maddy wasn’t worried though, she knew Charlotte was with The Hunter the whole time, which meant she was safe. And the Queen’s nasty little spy was easy enough for her to distract, so the Queen never learned that Charlotte had left.