This story is written for WildMeiLing's birthday. Since she seems to have gained a soft spot for King Rupert, he's the central character in this fanfic. Gefeliciteerd en nog vele jaren WildMeiLing!

A night away

Dessert was homemade apple pie with ice. Had his chef produced a pie that looked this beaten, Rupert would have sent it back. Sarah glanced at him nervously and relaxed when he said that it smelled delicious. It turned out to taste rather well, but what Rupert enjoyed most was the way his lover relished it. Sarah's table manners were not those of an ogre. No matter her charms, Rupert wouldn't be able to handle that. She just didn't see harm in picking up a crump of apple pie with her fingers or of taking a sip of wine with greasy lips. Her remark earlier on, that she'd "even thought of the serviettes" had made Rupert think that she normally never used any and her behaviour during dinner had confirmed this. He hadn't informed her that a serviette was made of cloth, not of paper.

When he'd finished his plate, Rupert complimented Sarah for the lovely food and conversation. It made her blush.

'You're so eloquent,' she said. Her eyes darting from Rupert to the sink behind him, she asked him to have a seat in the living room, so she could get them an after dinner drink.

'Do you need any help here?' Rupert asked, expecting her to deny his offer.

'No, no! Have a seat, feel free to read some or put on some music. I won't be long.'

OoOoO

Rupert picked up a woman's magazine and paged through it but he didn't feel like reading, especially not when the articles on offer ranged from spring cleaning to an interview with a writer of romantic novels. A bit of music would be nice, Rupert decided, if only because Sarah's house was small and therefore security was at eavesdropping distance.

An oak cupboard opposite the couch held various doors as well as open areas. Many of those contained plants, but one held records. Rupert went through Sarah's modest collection. Apart from a record by a young artist who wore corsets for regular clothing, the other records didn't reflect Sarah's age, which pleased Rupert. Golden oldies The Rolling Stones and Elvis weren't going to get them in the right mood though. Close to you by Robert Goulet seemed appropriate, but Rupert knew of another lady who loved the artist's voice. For the same reason he put aside Sarah Vaughan's Crazy and Mixed up. He judged that Leonard Cohen would be too distracting but that Richard Clayderman would suit just fine. Sarah owned three records by the French pianoplayer: eeny meeny miney mo.

'Found anything you like? Most of my music is on tape, down at the right.'

Rupert, not wanting to waste time now that Sarah had finished her household duties, held up Ein Traüm von Liebe. Sarah nodded approvingly and she in her turn held up a bottle.

'I got you that scotch you drank at the count's house.'

She proudly showed him the label. It was the right brand, but not quite the right quality. Still: she had made a point of remembering what he drank and even a bottle like this most cut in her kindergarten teacher's salary.

'You spoil me,' he said and he meant it.

Sarah laughed. 'Crazy man,' she affectionately said.

'Yet you refuse to let me spoil you!'

'You're here, aren't you? I know your time is precious.'

She smiled at him, then poured them both a drink. Rupert busied himself locating the record player. As the first notes filled the room, he reached out a hand. It drew Sarah to him. The scent of her lilac shampoo made Rupert feel like a man in his prime.

'Du sollst der Kaiser meiner Seele sein,' Sarah mumbled as she stared into her lover's eyes. Rupert could see that the poor wrench meant it.

'I am but a King,' he playfully said.

'A crown is a crown.'

'I won't argue with that,' Rupert said and he bent over to kiss Sarah. They soon dropped themselves on the couch. Sarah's dress got worked up and Rupert's tie got unknotted and then, between two pieces of music there it was: a cough from the hall.

Sarah's expression changed from feeling caught to recalling something important.

'I forgot to get him a drink!'

She moved to rise but Rupert pulled her back. 'You need not cater my bodyguard Sarah.'

He kissed her neck, heard an approving sound and thought he'd changed her mind. As he released his grip, she got up though. 'Just a glass of water!'

From the dining room to the kitchen to the hall she went, leaving her royal lover looking a little forlorn.

Rupert heard an exclamation and he guessed that Romero had materialized on the spot. Sarah's words proved him right: 'I didn't see you! Sorry. I brought you some water. I know you can't drink right now. Alcoholic drinks that is. But I thought, well… I just forgot. I got you chicken. To put on a sandwich if you like. I wanted to hand it to you before we had dinner but… I'm sorry. I could still make you one?'

Rupert rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

'You're kind miss Dumas,' Romero's deep voice floated into the living room. 'But you need not provide anything for me.'

Carrying the glass as well as a blush Sarah stepped from the hall into the living room.

'See my dear? Now, where were we?'

'Was I being silly, tell me honestly.'

Quite, Rupert thought but to outdo Romero he said: 'You were being sweet.'

Rupert's acting skills reassured Sarah. She dropped herself next to him and snuggled in his embrace.

'It's just… I'm not used to having servants around. Well, he's a security man but –'

'A servant yes.'

'Does it never bother you not having any privacy? I guess at the castle you won't have them so near you, right?'

'I hardly notice that they are around,' Rupert said but he'd barely finished his line or he realised that it made him come across as snobbish. To him servants were part of the background, only to be addressed when needed, but Sarah with her lower-middle-class background would not appreciate that.

'I doubt people fully realise the sacrifices their King makes for them,' Sarah surprised him. He guessed that she had mentally added "after all these years of being caged" to his line.

'Daniel pointed out the guards at the exhibition. He told me there were six of them!'

With sergeant Dumas being mentioned Rupert was fairly sure that the story of their first encounter was to follow. Sarah always referred to that meeting as if to pinch herself in her arm: yes, he is really with me and we have a history together. Eight months, no more. But a history has to start somewhere.

'My brother had looked forward to meet… royalty.'

If the Queen hadn't been delayed on a foreign trip, Rupert wouldn't have met Sarah. Both lovers spoke to shove the Queen's spirit out of the room, their words overlapping:

'The men loved it when they heard you were coming!'

'I looked forward to see the soldiers' art.'

They smiled at each other reassuringly for love and being in love were good things, weren't they?

'I was so nervous when you approached Daniel's statue. I guess you meet a lot of nervous people, don't you?'

'It happens occasionally,' Rupert dryly remarked.

Sarah nodded against his shoulder.

'But you yourself didn't strike me as anxious,' Rupert said. 'You were talkative and I must say very charming.'

Sarah raised her head to look at him and the way the disbelief on her face made way to joy gave Rupert a pang. He kissed her forehead. Sarah sighed and held him tight.

'I'm so glad to have found you,' she whispered.

Rupert made a throatily sound in reply. He may be an eloquent man but in present company he preferred to speak of nothings. 'We haven't even finished our drinks,' he discovered.

Sarah bent forward to get their glasses.

'Here's to us?' she proposed.

'Here's to a lovely and pretty woman, who looks absolutely angelic wearing that sweet blush,' Rupert said, caressing Sarah's heated cheek. They drank and after disposing their glasses Rupert pulled Sarah up.

'May I have this dance my dear?'

Rupert lifted her hand to his lips, never breaking eye-contact. Sarah's pupils dilated.

'Rupert…'

She made his name sound like a blessing. Feeling masculine and only slightly uncomfortable, Rupert raised his eyebrows as if he failed to understand her reaction.

'A kiss on the hand makes a woman feel like a lady,' Sarah softly said.

The unwelcome thought occurred to Rupert that Romero kissing his Queen's hand would make her feel like a woman. He went for Sarah's neck where he knew all the spots that made her feel less romantic and more wanting. They soon ended up on the couch again, all thoughts of dancing forgotten. Added to the light music were sighs and moans and giggles. Sarah couldn't stand being tickled.

Sighs, moans, giggles and coughing. Sarah looked caught, again. Rupert bit back his annoyance at the source of the sound. The man always did it. There'd be a sneeze, a cough, a clearing of the throat.

Sarah moved her fingers over the wrinkles that had appeared in Rupert's forehead.

'Shh,' she whispered soothingly.

Rupert found that the devotion in Sarah's face made up for Romero's fake cold.

'It's a price I have to pay,' he casually said.

'For being a King,' Sarah understood.

For being a jealous hypocrite, Rupert acknowledged to himself but he nodded all the same.

'Why don't we get some privacy?' he suggested. He lifted Sarah to her feet. His hands caressed her bare back before resting on her behind. He whispered entreaties in French. It earned him a deep kiss to which he responded by pushing Sarah against a wall. 'Upstairs,' she moaned into his mouth.

'Yes ma'am,' Rupert said with a roguish grin.

To his surprise Sarah made a bold move by grabbing the ends of his tie and leading him into the hall. Rupert feared his mistress might greet his bodyguard, but Romero didn't step out of his dark corner and Sarah's mind was with her King. As he was gently guided upstairs, Rupert – in a flash – pictured his faithful wife dragging Romero behind her like this. It wouldn't be her style really, but not for lack of playfulness and passion.

OoOoO

In the bedroom a lamp on a nightstand was burning already. Rupert was moved by Sarah's preparations as well as by the fact that after her bravery in walking him up the stairs she seemed shy now. He found it oddly appealing. Standing behind her he caressed her hair, her shoulders. She stood there with her eyes closed, one hand on his upper leg for support. They'd made love before, but never in her house and Rupert understood that it meant something to her. His fingers touched and teased as he quoted a sonnet. Sarah pressed herself against him.

'I'd like to see that beautiful gown of yours in a pool at your feet my dear.'

Sarah shakily opened the clasp that held her dress up.

OoOoO

Rupert preferred to wake up in his own bed, for the morning after involved too much of the common life, including unflattering light and claiming women. Of course that wasn't the explanation he gave to his ladies: they'd all believed him when he said that he wanted to spare their reputation. They thought him to be a knight. A gracious King and knight: what more could he want? What more could they want?

'Stay a little longer,' Sarah sleepily mumbled. 'It's only two ten.'

It was true. With his previous lovers he'd stayed until four. But he'd been younger then.

Sarah fell asleep again and Rupert quickly got dressed. Standing in the doorway he turned for a last glance and found that Sarah was cuddling his pillow.

OoOoO

Romero stood to attention at the bottom of the stairs.

'Ready to leave,' Rupert said, deliberately eyeing the man because he preferred to look away. Like always he expected to see anger and loathing in his guard's eyes, and like always the man's expression was neutral.

'Not yet sir,' Romero said in a whisper. 'My men reported a woman walking her dog. We'll wait for her to have left the street.'

Rupert glanced up the stairs, fearing that Sarah would come down. The house that had felt welcoming hours ago now seemed like a trap to Rupert. Seconds passed by. Rupert took out a little notebook and his pen and scribbled down a few words. He folded the message and handed it to Romero.

'Send her flowers. Red ones of course. You can put the note in.'

'You might want to add that you turned off the record player. And did the dishes. Sir.'

Rupert's jaw set.

Romero pressed his hand to his ear. 'We have a clear sir. Please follow me.'

Was that a glance at his tie?

Once in the car Rupert wondered what Sarah would make of this and he thought of her personality with more interest than he'd ever done before. A bit unrefined, but that was due to his high standards. Not very smart, but not dumb either. Sweet, kind, always seeing the best in people. Lord knows he needed that.

Rupert decided that Sarah would blush for being caught yet pride herself for her bold act. She'd think that that bloody Spaniard wouldn't dare to be cheeky.

The next time, he'd help Sarah do the damn dishes. Then he'd lift her unto the sink and have her.

Rupert smirked at Romero before raising the privacy screen and he had the satisfaction of seeing the man's expression darken.

-O-

Author's note: Du sollst der Kaiser meiner Seele sein (you'll (have to) be the emperor of my soul) is the first track on Ein Traüm von Liebe (a dream of love).