Riding pillion with Henry was a bit unnerving. Not that it was uncomfortable, because she was seated nearly upon his lap, but because she was inappropriately dressed for riding a horse. Her gown was ripped and exposed far too much of her skin for the 15th century. Henry placed his cloak around her to keep her warm, but she feared for his own health and attempted to refuse his offer.
"Do not defy me Lady Kirsa. You are quite invariably ill. I do not wish to again see you unconscious with fever. It is warmer today and I have on my leather jerkin. There is not a cloud in sight. My castle is but a short distance."
She would not dare disobey a commanding man in his position. It would be absurd not to mention downright dangerous. Good thing she had researched all she could about the "soldier king".
As they rode, they fell into an easy conversation. Kirsa feigned ignorance of Westminster when in fact she was an astute aficionado on the majority of English geography.
Henry was quite taken with the pretty Kirsa. By all appearances, she seemed very knowledgeable upon a number of subjects, but didn't seem very incisive of her own surroundings. He wondered if she was still suffering the after-effects of the fever-induced delirium. It concerned him, but not enough to take his mind off of her voluptuous body pressing against him. He swore that his horse was trying to kill him as he seemed to hit every pitfall in the road which caused Kirsa's bottom to jiggle relentlessly against his lap.
Kirsa did her best to not sit directly on top of Henry's lap, but it was difficult as each dip in the road was causing her to shift unwittingly to his lap. She would apologize each time it happened. She occasionally would hear him groan as if in pain…or was it frustration?
"I am sorry," she would relay and try sliding as far forward as possible.
"Please, 'tis all well," he responded doing his best to remain diverted. It wasn't working for Kirsa could feel his frustration poking her in the lower back.
A conversation or two later, Kirsa was beginning to tire. Not to mention the fact that she hadn't relieved herself in a long time. She wasn't sure if it was the constant jostling and the closeness of his majesty or if she was still suffering the side-effects of the time travel that seemed to have brought on fever. She decided to request a pit stop.
"Henry," she began, "would you mind if we stopped for a bit. I must," she paused, "uhm," she didn't know how to request that she had to go to the "little girl's room".
Luckily, Henry was not completely ignorant to her needs. "Of course," he said in a deep timbre that rumbled within his chest making Kirsa tremble. He also was in dire need to relieve himself. "Incidental, for my horse needs rest."
Pulling the stallion aside, he dismounted and began to assist Kirsa down. She placed her hands upon his shoulders as he placed his upon her waist. She noticed how large his hands really were once they were firmly placed there.
Henry couldn't help but observe, with his hands placed upon her hips, indeed how curvaceous she truly was. With her torn gown, he briefly caught a glimpse of the shapely thighs. Her ample bosom brushed against his cheek as he lifted her down from the stallion.
"I'm sorry Henry," she said as she leaned against him to regain her balance. He steadied her by placing both arms around her.
"Please do not apologize to me Kirsa. You still appear to be recovering. Do you wish for me to accompany you? I fear that you may take a spill."
Kirsa was taken aback. "Accompany me?! Hell no! Not to pee! Me squatting and him standing there waiting on me," she thought to herself. "Oh no your majesty! I'll be quite alright thank you," she said as she wandered into the trees.
"Please do not hesitate to cry out if you need assistance dear one."
"Did he just call me dear one?"
Kirsa found a spot well concealed but still near enough to see the horse. She squatted and it was then she noticed the cold. She began to shiver from the frigid temperature. She finished her business as quickly as possible and stood. All at once, she had a dizzy spell. Reaching out, she placed her hand upon the nearby tree to steady herself.
"Whoa there," she whispered to no one. After a few seconds, the vertigo seemed to ease. She was hoping she wasn't receiving a rebound of the bout of fever she had earlier.
Adjusting her dress and pulling her panties out of her ass, she began walking back toward the clearing. Henry had broken off the heel to her other shoe so that she could walk normally. He was all questions about her attire. She made up a story about it being a new fashion statement in Paris. He was concerned about the young ladies wearing such revealing apparel. They may catch their deaths.
Henry had been awaiting her in the clearing standing regally next to his horse. Kirsa couldn't help but gasp looking at him in the daylight. He was tall, well-built, and one hundred percent breathtaking. For a moment, she forgot to move and was overwhelmed by her situation. Her knees locked and she nearly collapsed.
Henry wore a look of concern as he rushed to her side. Placing his long arms about her, he picked her up and carried her to the horse.
"Now I am certain that I must get you in warm shelter. Truly little Kirsa, you are still ill." He gripped the horse's reins in his hand forcing him down in order to mount with Kirsa in his grasp.
"Please do not be concerned for me. It will pass soon. I am merely overwhelmed by it all."
Not responding, he placed her gently upon the horse's back and pulled the reins to have the horse rise.
"I feel very improper your majesty. What will court say when you ride into the gates with me upon your lap and dressed in this manner," she asked softly. "They will call me a harlot. Your mistress." Although, she had to admit, she liked the sound of the latter.
Placing his foot in the stirrup, he slung a long leg across the other side of the horse and planted himself in the saddle. Without warning, he again scooped her up into his arms and gently placed her upon his lap leaving her no choice but to look directly into his cerulean eyes.
His lips were so close now that she could almost taste his breath upon her tongue.
"Sweet Kirsa," his voice washed over her as a caress, "I have not the time to agonize over gossip…and if anyone dares to bear false witness upon you in such an insensitive manner, they will answer to me."
She had just beheld the soldier king within him. He was in truth quite fearsome. It was no wonder he was given the nickname. He had even frightened her in that moment.
Henry perceived her look of alarm. Removing his gloves, he reached up and stroked her cheek with his bare knuckles. In a husky voice he said, "I do not wish you to fear me. I would never cause thee harm." Looking deeply into her smoldering eyes, and with the slightest pressure, nudged her closer to his body.
It seemed as if time had stopped when his lips met her lips. It was a whisper of a kiss, but it was enough to cause flames to erupt within her and spread throughout her body. She could swear she felt it down to her toes.
Kirsa's eyes remained closed after he released the kiss and she sighed at the loss of his warm lips upon hers. Henry smiled and pulled his gloves back on and urged the horse to walk. It shook Kirsa out of her kiss hangover and she once again feigned shyness at his actions.
"You have me at a disadvantage your majesty. I am unaccustomed to," she paused and placed her fingers to her lips, "kissing."
In truth, she'd been kissed, but not like that. Clearly he'd had his share of women. It was an unspoken reality in history that men were free to have as many intimate relations they wished, but for women, it was strictly taboo.
"Apologies milady, but your lips beckoned me. I could go no longer resist their temptation."
Kirsa smiled bashfully as her chest, neck, then face turned rose colored. It did not go unnoticed by the king as he smirked in response. Urging the horse to a slow gallop, they continued toward Windsor Castle.