Warning: Some fluffy weirdness ahead. Some of this could offend some people so take heed. I portray Joan as a human, with human affections and desires…

Part 10

Joan refilled the basin and retrieved a clean cloth. She scrubbed Azrai's razor thoroughly and as she washed the blade she thought of how to shave him. Let him shave himself was out of the question; that would leave risk of him harming her or himself.

The Prince seemed wary as he eyed the blade she was holding. Joan made sure the blade was at her side and she approached him passively. Silently she knelt down taking hold of Edward's jaw.

"Hold still," Joan whispered as she brought her face in closer.

Edward shivered as he felt the cool razor touch his cheek, but in contrast he felt her warm breath wash over the same spot. He remained as still as he could, trying hard not to make direct eye contact, as she drew the razor down his cheek, scraping away his light scruff. He swallowed as unrecognizable feelings and emotions washed over his body. Whatever the feelings were, they were undoubtedly the result of the nearness of this young woman. The responsiveness came from his body, not his brain.

A strange feeling started to settle low in Joan's belly as she continued to shave the Prince. She had little idea what the feeling was, but it was no longer the pity she felt towards him when she first took care of him. Joan told herself it was curiosity then gratitude for sparing her life at Cherbourg. Joan shook her head mildly as she knew those weren't the reasons why she felt this way.

He knew he was at her mercy and that at any given moment she could bare her fangs and treat him the same way the French nobles did. Yet if she wanted him dead she would have killed him by now. His feelings were filled with uncertainty; uncertainty about this girl and about himself.

Joan tried to keep her hand steady as she shaved his other cheek. He was silent, confused and uncertain, like a myriad of thoughts were swarming around in his head. As she felt the silkiness of his soft hair and the firmness of his jaw and the touch of his cold skin, her mind was sent spinning. Finally she took one last swipe, but then her mind left her body to its own volition. She could no longer deny the sensuality of this position…

She removed the blade from his cheek. Edward swallowed as he saw the look in her eyes. If he wasn't mistaken that was a look of…desire. His stomach clenched in anticipation.

He fought her body's urges long enough. Joan grabbed the cloth from beside her and brought it to the side of the Prince's face to wipe away any extra hair left on his cheek. Her touch was gentle and warm. Edward could not keep himself from leaning into her palm.

Joan's breath hitched when the prisoner pressed his cheek against the palm of her hand. Her control collapsed. She drew her hand away from his cheek and leaned in, pressing her lips gently to his cheek.

His mind was gone. When her warm lips rested on his cheek, he refused to listen to any protests his mind gave him. He tilted his head down so that his lips were just centimeters away from the curve of her neck.

She could feel his breath on her neck and knew he did all he could to restrain himself from actually touching her neck with his lips. That aside, the feeling of his nearness was very sensual beyond her comprehension and she felt a tug in her lower abdomen. Joan knew she went too far and clearly the young man was just as confused as she. Yet she was addicted to the intoxicating sensations she felt.

Quite suddenly, her sensible mind returned. Her eyes widened in shock and she withdrew. The Prince's expression did not change at her sudden action; he still had a submissive expression and her drew his knees up to hide the embarrassing evidence of his arousal.

"I-I do not know what came over me," Joan stated quietly more to herself than the Prince. Edward turned his body away to gain more slack in the shackles around his wrists and he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes vigorously. Still embarrassed, Joan stormed out of the room.

***

The King of England, a tall majestic older man, usually within a thick fortress of dark armor, trotted on his horse along a dusty road with his entourage beside him, all on horses as well. This group consisted of the King's wife, the female general Philippa, John Chandos, the Captal de Buch, and the Duke of Lancaster. They all were traveling the road back to the fortress of Bordeaux, going home after a nice ride through the countryside of Aquitaine.

John Chandos, a rugged man with an eye-patch and a long gray beard, rode in between the King and the two ladies in the back, mostly because he wanted to avoid the Captal de Buch. The famed female commander and the King's wife were speaking softly about the beauty of the landscape, commenting on the beautiful shades of colors the trees held during this autumn afternoon. The King and the two other nobles were discussing the prospect of holding a tournament of games. Light talk made Chandos uneasy and he remained quiet.

"A tournament does appeal to me, Your Highness," Lancaster agreed. "Though not as exciting if your son will not be participating."

The mighty King gave a huff of dry laughter, "On the contrary, it should prove more interesting. Knights won't give up on the prospect of facing that boy."

Chandos flinched at the King's tone. The rugged military advisor was worried. He had not seen or heard from the Prince for quite some time, and he wondered why the King didn't seem concerned. Instead the King was talking merrily about a Princeless tournament. The Prince of Wales loved a fair fight in tournaments, but he was always crestfallen when knights would drop out of the jousting matches when they faced him. The Prince took the championship of every tournament he participated in, hands down, his skill unmatched by lesser knights. Just as well, the Prince was never a spectator and thirsted for a challenge, but more importantly the tournaments diverted his thoughts away from war and allowed him to have…fun.

But recently the Prince sadly hasn't been able to have fun. Chandos saw the will to enjoy anything disappear from the Prince, as he was stricken with illness and fatigue. The King of England seemed more vivacious than him.

"Do you agree Chandos?" the King spoke to the advisor from over his shoulder.

"Your Highness?"

"Do you agree that a sufficient tournament could be held in three days?" the King restated his question.

"I do not see any reason to disagree…" John Chandos replied.

As the nobility chatted, they were oblivious to the figure walking the road behind them. His steady walking pace caught up to the horses of the King's entourage, and the man walked through the horses trying to casually pass them. Only one problem: he was completely naked. As the man passed the group he casually greeted, "Hello good sirs…ladies," before continuing on. They stared after him in shock. The women in the back just looked at each other, but the other nobles' jaws went slack.

"Sir?" the Duke of Lancaster managed to find words. The man turned around causing the nobles' eyes to widen. The man was somewhat older, about a similar age to the King. He had short, disheveled gray hair and a short prickly gray beard. He was fairly well built and muscular for his age.

"Are you okay?" the Duke questioned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the man assured, walking slowly up the road backwards.

"But you are…completely…nude."

The man looked down at himself before looking back at them, "So I am. And…?"

"Well…it is highly inappropriate. What happened?" the Captal de Buch glared down at the peasant who had the gall to walk in the presence of the King… naked, no less.

The man scratched the back of his head, "I'm not really sure to be honest. But I see no problem. I believe that anyone who is disgusted with seeing a nude person should be castrated and all of this…" he gestured towards his groin, "…should be sent to Paris, since the French seem to be in need of some stones. Am I rights ladies?" He waved at the two women in the back. The women waved tried hard not to laugh and waved back. That was the last straw for the nobles. "Good god, sir, you are in the presence of His Royal Highness the King of England! Show some respect and decency!"

The man shrugged. Appalled, the Captal de Buch drew his sword and pointed it at the nude man, "You try my patience, peasant!"

To everyone's surprise the King burst into laughter. The nobles stared at the King stunned. "Your Highness?"

"I knew your face looked familiar. Good Lord, you've gotten old, De La Hoya," the King chuckled.

"I can say the same for you, Your Highness. It's been a long time," the man smirked.

Chandos turned to the King, "You know this fellow?"

"Of course. Fredrico used to serve under me in my younger years. You should know this Chandos."

John Chandos thought that the name did sound familiar.

"Lancaster, please lend this man your coat," the King asked the Duke. The Duke hesitated, unsure and surprised, but obeyed and removed his outer coat, "Of course, Your Majesty."

He tossed it to Fredrico. The man wrapped it around himself quickly, "Ooh, nice fabric." Lancaster's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"What are you doing here, my old friend?" the King asked.

"Err…" De La Hoya blinked, "Oh yeah, well, I was supposed to be looking for someone, but I guess I got side-tracked."

The King gave a low chortle, "Please we must catch up during the evening feast and we should hope to find you some proper clothes."

***

La Hire was on his way to meet with de Rais when he spotted the Duke of Berry conversing with the King. At first, he chose to ignore it until he heard mention of Joan's name. Quickly, he pressed himself back behind the wall so he wasn't spotted.

"Ze Maid has had the prisoner long enough, Your Majesty, and my guards report that she had done nothing to him…"

The King gave a sigh, "I knew it wasn't in Joan's nature to keep a prisoner, but if she wanted him in her possession, she knew she would have to carry out tasks suited of a detainer."

Berry nodded in excitement, "Exactly, sir. Give the prisoner to me. I will show that English scum the might of France."

"No," the King responded in a bored tone. "She would never agree to that, but maybe a lesson could be taught…very well."

The Duke's head perked up.

"If Joan does not violate the Prince in the next three days, zen we will come with a better arrangement for of zem."

La Hire swallowed. He couldn't believe it. The King? Was this the real King? Why would His Majesty strive to ruin the life of one innocent girl? All over a young Prince.

La Hire rushed to the one man he knew would have answers: Lord de Rais.

A/N: I recently suffered a bout of writer's block so I watched a few movies to stir my story along. A scene many of you would recognize as a scene from A Knight's Tale. Fredrico's comment about nudity also resembles a line Ben Franklin makes in the John Adams series. I love that line. As I have stated before, this story is rated M for a reason. So if things like this don't appeal to you, don't read it. I would be pissed if someone files a complaint after I have given clear warnings over the content of this story. Fredrico De La Hoya is my character. Thanks to all of my reviewers, because of all of you I have an incentive to write faster.