The knock on her door, followed by some muffled words behind it, woke Hermione up. The sun was barely showing, just a few rays were visible in the far mountains. Groaning, she rubbed her eyes with her fists. She felt exhausted, like the few hours of sleep she had gotten weren't enough.
For the past week, the Prince had been celebrating with his friends. Every. Single. Night. To her horror, she hadn't been dismissed the rest of the nights. For almost a week she had to watch how her Master got drunk while enjoying women, dancing around his sitting room. And then she had to stay there, standing outside his door, as he fucked everyone he wanted. The first night she felt nauseated by the groans and the moans coming from every door around her, especially her Master's, but then she slowly got used to it. Hermione stood there, listening, until everyone fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, before checking on her Master (always naked, sweaty, and with a couple of women sleeping on top of him) before going to bed.
As she grew up, watching the elegant women from afar, Hermione had always imagined that their lives were glamorous. She'd imagined that they served tea parties and sang for the Royals. How naïve she was. Now she understood why everyone said that the King's Ladies were his lovers, more like whores, and maybe the rumors weren't far from the truth. She felt grateful that the Prince hadn't insinuated anything yet.
With a sigh, she got up from bed, getting ready for the day. The only thing that made her work worth it, was the bed in which she slept and the food. As a Kitchenmaid she only had watery broth or leftovers for her meals. But as a Lady-in-waiting she could sit at the long table, with the other girls, and enjoy a decent meal. Sometimes, she was even offered dessert. And Eirene had explained that now that House Greengrass was coming, the royals would be hosting a lot of parties and events and that Ladies could attend them, having a designated table.
When Hermione came down for breakfast, most of the Ladies were already sitting at the table. She glanced around until her eyes caught the sight of the redhead and the blonde.
"We saved you a seat," Luna greeted, motioning to the empty chair. Hermione took her seat, placing food on her plate.
"Ugh, I don't understand why everyone is so excited for the Greengrass. That only means more work for us," Ginny said, rolling her eyes as she bit into a toast.
Luna nodded. They had been Ladies since they were fifteen, and thankfully they didn't look down on Hermione for being a Kitchenmaid, as most of the Ladies did. They had been very kind to her, teaching her how to do things the right way, how to use the secret passages of the castle, how to attend her duties in the most graceful way.
Luna worked for one of the Prince's cousins, taking care of her son. Apparently the one-year-old was called Teddy and was the sweetest thing on Earth, according to the blonde. Because the prince spent most of his time in his chambers or in the gardens with his friends, Hermione still didn't know most of the family. Not once had she seen the King, as her Master preferred to speak with his father alone.
Ginny was another story. She was not a personal Lady and had to look after whoever came to the castle. Now, she was working for Lord Nott, so she and Hermione had spent almost all day together serving their respective men. But at night Hermione always felt so lonely without Ginny by her side as Lord Nott usually dismissed the redhead, and she had to face the parties alone.
"Girls! Pay attention!" Eirene called, her voice loud. The Ladies went silent, turning their attention to the elder woman. "Well, House Greengrass' belongings had just arrived, and we are expecting them to be here in a couple of hours."
"But they were supposed to come tomorrow!" Ginny claimed, annoyed. Everyone turned towards her. All the Ladies were thinking the exact same thing, but no one expressed their discontent with the news.
Eirene raised a brow, in a way to remind everyone in the room in which place they belonged in and that they could be replaced with the snap of fingers. "Then, I advise you to hurry up."
Panic quickly filled the air as all the Ladies stood up, almost running to get things ready and rushing into the palace. Ginny, Luna and Hermione grabbed their respective trays and quickly climbed up the stairs.
Everyone was rushing from one place to the other. The curtains and the windows were open. House servants cleaning every surface until they shone. Whispers and the sounds of hundreds of steps on the marble floor, creating a fuzz, and even the guards, always so serious, looked anxious. Hermione could only imagine the lashings that servants would receive if they didn't finish their duties before the King arose and the Greengrass were here. She shivered, remembered the only time she was lashed when she was twelve.
Luna went opposite from them, her blonde hair crashing with her dark purple dress. Hermione saw how Ginny opened the main doors to the Prince's chambers, quickly entering Lord Nott's room.
Her stomach flipped. Her Master wasn't going to be happy about this. She entered the room, placing the tray on the dressing table. Quickly entering the private bathroom and ordering a servant to bring in warm water. Her fingers skimmed over the luxurious cloth of his suits, pulling out the one that had Malfoy's coat of arms embroidered in silver. Anxiety rising as she got everything ready for him. Her Master groaned as she pulled the curtains apart, letting the sun shine into the room.
"What the bloody fuck are you doing here so early!" his voice was husky with sleep and anger, his arm covering his eyes.
He was so hangover that Hermione could smell the alcohol all over him.
She bowed, and the Prince stood up in front of her. "Good morning, Master. I've been sent up to inform you that Lady Greengrass and her House will be here in a couple of hours."
Her Master grabbed a chunk of her hair, yanking her head so that she looked up at him. She fell to her knees, pain rising in her scalp as he pulled harder. His eyes a dark shade of silver, his body vibrating with anger. Hermione felt the whimper forming in her throat, but her lips never released it. She kept her eyes fixed in his, knowing that weakness would only make him angrier.
"She is supposed to come tomorrow!" The prince roared, pushing her with such force that Hermione fell backwards on her palms. Her blood slowly began to heat, almost to boiling point, as anger filled her veins.
It was not her bloody problem that his fiancée happened to come one day early.
He began pacing up and down the room, clutching his head between his hands. Alcohol and anger didn't mix well, and she was sure her Master had a horrible headache. Taking deep breaths as she tried to control her anger she stood up, her head held high as if nothing had happened.
"Their belongings came an hour ago, chambers are getting ready right now. Please, Master, let me get you ready," she grabbed a goblet, and approached him, offering the drink. Hermione almost had to bite her tongue to prevent the venom from spilling with the anger ringing in her ears.
He eyed her, suspiciously. "What's this?"
"It will help with the headache, Master."
Her Master grabbed the goblet, drinking its contents as he walked towards the bathroom. Hermione followed, a few steps behind. She took a deep breath, dissipating the anger before closing the door, knowing that servants would tidy up the bedroom.
The warm water filled the room with steam. He stood in front of the ivory bathtub, lifting his arms. Hermione approached, staring into his eyes, almost challenging him. Her fingers went down his body, pulling the nightgown off, followed by his underwear, careful not to touch his skin and trying not to look phased by his nakedness. She was still getting used to seeing him naked.
Climbing into the bathtub, he sat with his back against the ivory, relaxing as the warm water surrounded him. Hermione gently worked on him, the anger long gone. She had to remind herself that she was just a servant and part of her job was managing her Master's tantrums.
Her nails softly scratched his scalp as she washed his platinum blond hair. The foam of soap slowly filling the bathtub. She felt how he relaxed as her hands massaged his shoulders and neck. He groaned in pleasure as she pressed a point between his shoulder blades. Hermione had noticed that he was always tense, and that massaging his shoulders put him in a better mood.
Hermione grabbed a washing cloth, damping it in soap before she began stroking his body with it, washing away the sweat and alcohol. A soft hum coming out of her lips, as she bathed him, absent in her thoughts. Her brain commanded her hands to wash his shoulder, then his chest going low into his abdomen. Even though she was doing it with carefulness, her mind was elsewhere, imagining how Lady Astoria Greengrass would be, how the Prince would behave and all the hundreds of things she would have to do before his wedding.
A throaty groan snapped her out of her thoughts. Her Master had his head thrown back, lips slightly parted, a soft blush creeping up his neck. Hermione looked down, her hand resting on his abdomen, and a few inches down the sign of his arousal prominent, the tip peeking out the water.
She tried to pull her hand away in shock, but his hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place. His silver eyes opened abruptly, dark and filled with lust, staring intensely into her brown ones. Her breath hitched in her chest. Without looking away, her Master slowly dragged her hand over his skin, going lower and lower. He guided her hand until it was over his hardness, softly closing her slender fingers around him.
A shaky breath left Hermione's lips, not knowing what to do. This was not proper, she was sure Eirene hadn't signed her up for this. Hell, his soon to be wife was on her way to the palace. But, she knew that Ladies did this kind of favors for the King. She didn't want to be discharged to the kitchens. Surely the better life she was promised was worth the humiliation of pleasuring him. But, what if she displeased him and he replaced her because she didn't know how to satisfy him?
The moral dilemma going fast in her brain, her eyes still locked with his.
Her cheeks flushed as the humiliation settled in her chest. She was going to accept the duty of pleasuring him. Her Master lifted a brow, asking which path she was going to follow.
Hermione pushed her pride to the side, and slowly stroked him down his length, his hand over hers. He closed his eyes, throwing his head backwards. He guided her moves, gripping her hand firmly as her palm touched his sensitive flesh. Her thumb caressed the tip of his length and she felt him quiver under her grip. He liked that, just as he liked when she pressed that sensitive spot on his back. Her finger nails softly dragged over his flesh, and his moan echoed in the bathroom.
After a while, he let go of her hand. She intensified her grip and speed, caressing the tip with her thumb every time she reached it. Her cheeks flushed, watching as her Master allowed soft moans out of his lips, his face showing pure bliss. She felt him pulsing under her touch as she continued her hand job.
"Who do you serve?" he hissed out, his voice husky with pleasure.
Hermione gulped, her throat suddenly dry. "I only serve you, Master," she softly said, surprised by the confidence in her voice.
With a low groan, he came in her hand, hot and thick liquid dissipating into the water.
Draco was sitting at the main table of a huge party thrown in honor of his future wife's family, and he was bored out of his mind. His index finger circling the rim of his cup as he stared at the couples dancing in the center of the ballroom. After leaving the bathroom that morning, feeling more relaxed, he had thought that the day would be bearable. But, hell, he was wrong.
He had seen Astoria every summer since he was five, their parents trying to make the engagement more pleasurable by forcing them to be friends. But he didn't even like Astoria.
He eyed the green-eyed beauty sitting to his left. She had a pretty, doll like face, with porcelain skin. Just like the hundreds of heiresses he had seen during his lifetime. Just like the daughters of the lords sitting a few tables from him. Even her voice sounded like every other he had heard before.
Rolling his eyes, he gulped down his wine. Just hearing her chatting with his mother was putting him on the verge of boredom. She liked the same things as the other heiresses, dressed like them, acted like them. How could his parents choose someone so dull to be the next queen? Not that his mother was the most interesting woman on earth, anyway. But Astoria represented everything a queen should be, or what his parents thought a queen should be. Well mannered, from a powerful House, beautiful and obedient to her future husband. A good girl. Maybe too good for him.
The worst part was that she was so slenderly built that it was obvious that her corset was pushing her breast up to pretend she had some curves to offer. Maybe that was the reason Theo had been encouraging him to find a proper mistress, because he knew that Draco's future wife wouldn't be up to satisfy the deepest of his appetites.
And then, there she was. The forbidden fruit. Her curly hair softly moving around her as one of Astoria's cousins guided her through the dance floor. He would have never laid eyes on her, she was a Kitchenmaid after all, not even a proper Lady of the court. But over the years he had understood that the things that seem most appealing are those forbidden and wrong. And she was both. Wrong because of her status and forbidden because Astoria was meant to be the one sharing his bed (not that he cared about that rule).
But he loved the hatred she kept quiet, the way her eyes challenged him, the fire that ignited her soul. She was trying to be proper, to hold back those intense emotions, but she was not that. She was a fighter, Draco could almost feel her blood boiling every time he humiliated her. The words dying on her lips, but her eyes showing all that rage. And he desired to feel that range all over him, and his name falling from her lips as he fucked her senseless.
Draco didn't know how she had captivated him in a couple of weeks, but he was sure that her contrast with the other Ladies had something to do with it.
Hermione must have felt his eyes staring at her back, because soon she turned to face him. Her light blue dress floating around her.
He stood up, facing his fiancée from above and, with his most charming smile, he extended his hand. "May I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Greengrass?" Her cheeks flushed, as she took his hand and let Draco guide her to the dance floor. He tried not to roll his eyes, she was such a prude.
The orchestra continued filling the room with music as Draco glided across the room, elegantly twirling Astoria. People were standing from the tables and approaching the dance floor to get a better glance at the soon to be royal couple. Draco could see as Lord and Lady Greengrass smiled, satisfied and imagining their youngest daughter's exceptional future as a Queen. His mother was not far behind, delighted by the dark-haired girl in his arms and surely already imagining her grandchildren. But his intentions were not in Lady Greengrass, as he elegantly danced approaching Hermione and her dance partner.
The song ended, and everyone stopped, facing the orchestra. Laughter and claps filled the air. And the moment he had been waiting for finally came.
"Dance with me, cousin Astoria," the tall man asked, taking Astoria a few feet away from Draco.
Hermione turned, determined to return to the Ladies' table, but Draco quickly captured her right hand in his left, pulling her to face him. Her chest pressed against his, as his other hand snaked down her back to rest on her hip. His fingers digging into her soft skin, just separated by the fabric of her dress.
"I guess you are dancing with me now," he smirked, and her eyes sparkled with fire.
"I guess I don't have an option, Master," the word rolled off her tongue and goosebumps flourished on his skin. He was sure that Hermione would never tease him, she knew her place, but that word awoke his deepest desires.
"I didn't know Kitchenmaids were taught how to dance," he twirled her, and pressed her harder towards him when she was facing him again.
"Eirene educated me well. I would not be serving you otherwise, Master," she lifted an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips.
"I assume not," he shrugged. He shifted his eyes to glance above her shoulder. Theo was sitting at a table, staring at Draco. His best friend winked at him, lifting his cup, cheering him, before taking a long gulp of wine.
"I think your bride to be is looking for you, Master. I was commanded to leave you alone when you escort Lady Greengrass back to her chamber," she whispered, her hot breath caressing the skin of his neck.
And as the music stopped, Hermione slithered out of his grip with a swift move, before getting lost in the crowd. And a few seconds after, Astoria was linking their arms, asking him to escort her to her chambers.
The castle was death silence, only some dim lights coming from candles illuminating the stone walls. Draco could not sleep, his brain running wild. And, every time he closed his eyes, he saw Astoria, flashes of his royal duties, what he thought would be his boring life married to Astoria. But above all he saw a pair of brown eyes, freckles of gold in them shining with anger. He could almost still feel her soft hand over where he most ached for it. It was driving it insane. "Just fuck her, your filthy whim will go away," Theo had told him.
But how could Draco satisfy his desire for her if she had almost not touched him since a week ago, when the bathtub affair occurred?
He walked across the halls and down many sets of stairs until he reached the main library. Draco was tugging on his hair, he was acting like a bloody adolescent, losing his sleep over a girl.
He plopped on a chair by his favorite window, at the far back of the library. The silence was the peace his mind needed so desperately. He felt so exhausted and sick of Astoria. She wanted to spend every fucking minute of the day with him. And because she was his future wife, and everyone was watching his every move towards her, he couldn't just push her out of his life like he would have done with anyone else. So, he had spent the past week eating with her, walking through the gardens enrolled in a shallow conversation with her, riding horses and enjoying tea parties in the woods.
But what made those activities, that he had done before with Astoria, unbearable was the presence of Hermione always a few steps behind him. The only thing Draco needed to feel her skin under his fingertips was extending his arm. But he didn't ache for the exposed skin her dresses left uncovered. No, he ached for the skin the fabric shielded from his view. The warm and soft flesh between her legs, something he had only imagined.
A soft thud, of a book falling on the carpet, snapped him out of his thoughts. He stood up, alert. As a prince he had been trained to be always watching, many wanted to end his life to get a hold of the crown and the power it symbolized. He furrowed his brows; the guards were just outside the doors would never let in anyone that wasn't loyal to the crown. But the secret passages were opened to anyone that knew how to get through them.
Clenching his fists, he slowly walked around the shelves of books, careful not to make a noise. He was ready to kill the intruder with his bare hands.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Before him the image of his sinful thoughts had materialized. Hermione was in front of a bookshelf, standing on her toes and stretching her arm up to reach a book. Her white nightgown so thin and short that he could see the curve where her thighs transformed into her ass peaking underneath it. His hand twitched, he just wanted to grip her and cup her ass as he banged her against the wall.
"What are you doing here, Hermione?" Draco whispered, approaching her. She jumped back, startled, and turned to face him.
He could see her breasts going up and down with every breath she took, the fabric of her gown thin enough to let him see her nipples hiding behind it. He felt how blood rushed down his body, hardening at the sight of her.
"Master," the word escaped from her lips like a plea, and he felt his blood going hot. "I didn't know you were here."
She looked down, staring at the book in her hands. Draco took three long steps and snatched the book out of her grasp. He read the front cover. The novel that told the story of two lovers in Verona. Hermione was still staring at her feet, and Draco couldn't help but roam his silver eyes all over her body. His mind started to imagine how her soft flesh would feel under him.
"You like to read?" He inquired.
Hermione looked up, that was not the answer she expected. "Very much, Master."
"I like reading too," he took another step, now only a breath away from her. "May I know why my Lady-in-waiting is going around the castle in such an indiscreet gown," he asked, staring into her eyes as his fingers played with the hem of her nightdress.
"I just came for a book, Master. I will be back in my bed now."
She grabbed the book, but before she could take a step back from him, Draco had pinned her against the bookshelf, his hands at either side of her head. She was looking into his eyes, challenging him.
"Or maybe you were hoping to be on my call," he whispered, his breath brushing her face.
He dipped his face, to kiss her, to soothe the hunger he felt deep inside him. To his surprise his lips didn't touch hers, as she had turned her face and now was the skin of her cheek what his lips were feeling. Rage and lust quickly filled his veins. He captured her chin in his hand, forcing her to face him. Her breaths were deep and sharp, her chest rising and falling quickly. Her eyes were burning with fire, with the fire he had hoped to see. But his anger only increased.
"What do you think you are doing?" He demanded, almost spitting in her face. His fingers digging into her face.
"With all due respect, Master. I'm your servant, not your prostitute," she spat out, venom in her voice.
In the blink of an eye, she escaped his grip and disappeared into one of the secret passages. That infuriating woman would not leave him just like that.
A/N: Thanks to everyone that followed, favorited and reviwed the story and everyone that is liking the story so far. This chaper is dedicated to you. Let me know what you think about the story so far and if you are liking the dark plot... because it only gets darker from here. Hope you enjoyed it!