Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was a large castle. The castle sat high on a hill overlooking a vast countryside. The castle was made of stone and looked very imposing to any strangers who passed by it on the road. It was larger than most castles. The turrets were high and looming, the wall around it strong and forbidding. It was not a welcoming castle.

The King who lived inside it ruled his kingdom with swift justice and overall fairness. He was not so much a man of the people as everyone liked to believe; he was simply a good politician. He knew exactly how to keep the people happy and how to keep his kingdom free of revolt. He had heard many stories of surrounding kingdoms being rife with peasant revolutions and had, on occasion, heard a tale in which the peasants won. He was an arrogant man, make no mistake, but he was also a smart one. He knew he could crush the peasants if they rebelled, but he also knew it was easier not to have to. He taxed enough to keep himself rich, but not so much to keep the people in poverty.

The Queen was a beautiful woman who enjoyed her station in life very much. She loved beautiful things, this castle, her finery, and so on. She was a dutiful wife to her husband, having been married off to him at a very young age. She could almost not remember a time before he was her husband. He gave her most everything she could desire, as in addition to knowing happy peasants are calm peasants, the king also knew that a happy wife was a quiet wife. She did not nag or interfere with his matters in any way as long as she was pleased. So he made sure to keep her very pleased indeed.

He gave her everything including a daughter. The King had very badly wanted a son, an heir to his throne, a namesake. He had instead begat a girl, a beautiful tow-headed, blue-eyed baby girl. His wife had been delighted, as she saw the girl as a doll more than anything else. She could play with her and dress her and teach her. The daughter became more of a hobby for the queen than an offspring. They named her Stella, an unusual name for the time, but one fitting of the unique personality their child seemed to possess from day one.

She was a quiet baby, never fussed or cried. She always seemed to be looking about her, studying things even when she was too young to be able to study things. Her blue eyes were all the time wide with wonder at everything the world had to show her. She grew up quickly, matured and ripened into a lovely young woman. Her hair was long and silky, still as blond as the day she was born. Her eyes were blue as the summer’s day and soft, taking care still to notice all those things that went on around her.

So many times people took her for her mother, assuming that she was vapid and not intelligent enough to understand the things she saw and heard. No one ceased their conversation around her because they did not think she would pay attention anyway. As it turns out, though, the Princess Stella was an extremely intelligent girl. She heard and observed so many things that she knew more of the state of the kingdom and its surroundings than probably even the king himself. She knew of the peasants and what plagued them daily, she knew of the servants in the castle and all of their drama. There was not a soul too beneath her to not care about. She kept quiet most of the time about these things, as she knew if she went to her father with advice for how to run his kingdom, she would be laughed out of the room.

So Stella continued to watch and listen. She went horse riding in the countryside every day, running her horse as fast as he would carry her. She loved the feel of the wind in her hair; the speed thrilled her like nothing else. Her mother had always been opposed to the way Stella rode her horse, thinking that she was endangering her life on purpose to cause her own mother grief. Stella only said “Yes, Mother,” and walked away. The next day she would ride at the same breakneck speed as always and her mother never said another word about it.

She sometimes sensed that the Queen was upset with her in a way for having grown up. She was no longer the woman’s plaything, but a woman now herself. Her days of being a doll were long over, and now the Queen seemed to have no use for her. Stella wondered to herself when they would marry her off. She knew that they wanted to be rid of her and she knew she had reached the proper age. She had heard her fair share of talk on the subject about the castle, but nothing concrete. If she only listened to rumors, she would have been married off five times at least by now.

Stella was on her daily ride, particularly frustrated this day because of a conversation she had overheard in the kitchens about how miserable the townsfolk were becoming. Her father lately was blinded to the issues of his people, becoming more and more obsessed with a war that was forming in the east. Stella knew what little it would take to appease the people and make things right again, but for now the King was distracted and there was nothing to be done. She took her frustration out on her horse and rode him harder than ever before.

Hooves pounded against the ground, the wind blew through her hair. Stella felt free in that one moment. It was just she and her horse; they were all that existed, all that needed to exist. When finally she realized the horse needed a rest, they stopped by a small pond. The horse, Morningstar she called him, had a drink and rested in the afternoon sunlight. Stella sat down in the grass against a tree and closed her eyes.

“A nice day for a ride, isn’t it?” a voice said.

Stella was snatched from her reverie, realizing quickly she must have dozed off. Her eyes opened with a start and her breath caught in her throat as she spied the man standing in front of her. He was tall and handsome, dark wavy chestnut hair and green eyes that sparkled with laughter as he watched her try to regain her composure. Stella stared at him, taken aback by her body’s reaction to this stranger. Never before had anyone elicited this kind of response from her.

The stranger smiled at her, sensing her reluctant attraction to him. He sat down next to her in the grass, his long legs stretched out before him. Stella continued to be speechless, but her mind was running a marathon inside her head. She wondered who this man was and why she suddenly couldn’t speak. She briefly wondered if she was in danger, but her hormones won out over logic on that thought and she moved on to wondering what it would be like to kiss this man. She mentally kicked herself. She was NOT that kind of girl. This was absurd.

She managed a smile, trying to find some semblance of her former self inside this new tongue-tied schoolgirl that had just emerged.

“It is a beautiful day for a ride,” she answered finally. Looking around she realized he had no horse. “Where is your horse, sir?” she asked.

“I felt like walking today,” he replied. He took a deep breath of the fresh countryside air as though to prove his point that it was pleasant to walk.

“It just seems as though it would be a far walk from…Where are you from?”

“East,” he told her. “I come from the East.”

Stella nodded and looked around her, surveying the land. This was her favorite spot to sit, her own private corner of the world. She was not used to having company.

“I have interrupted you,” he said apologetically.

“Not at all,” she lied. “I enjoy the company.”

The truth was that while she was unused to guests on her daily rides, if she were to have a guest, she could in no way complain about this one. She was still trying to regulate her breathing because something about him, about his nearness made it difficult. He watched her closely it seemed, and upon realizing this, she felt her skin flush pink.

“I am Tristan,” he told her.

“Stella,” she replied, purposefully leaving out her title.

He reached out for her hand, and she gave it to him. He lifted it to his lips and lightly brushed her skin with his mouth.

“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Stella.”

“The pleasure is mine, Tristan,” she said shyly.

The two sat under the tree and talked for the better part of the afternoon. Stella was fascinated to find out that this handsome and charming man was more than just that, he was educated, passionate, and worldly. He knew of places she had only ever heard of or read about in books. He talked freely with her, treating her more like a person than just a woman.

Tristan was equally fascinated by Stella. She was an amazing woman, he came to find out. She was smart, well-read, compassionate about the commonfolk, and more interested in the general affairs of the rest of the world than he would have thought possible for a woman. She was enchanting. He knew he had to have her. If he had to take a wife, no other woman would ever satisfy him the way she could. By looking at her, he knew she would be a formidable partner in the bedroom, but by talking to her he knew she would give him a lifetime of great conversation. She was witty and fun, but at the same time serious and clever.

The sun dropped lower on the horizon as the afternoon meandered to a close. The myriad colors of the sunset glowed softly on the grassy meadow surrounding them. Stella, reclined lazily against the tree, suddenly realized how late it had gotten and sat up with a start.

“Oh, my. I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to go!”

“No, wait. Please don’t go,” Tristan said, grabbing her arm. “Stay with me just a little while longer.”

Stella looked into his deep green eyes and something inside of her melted. She cared about nothing but staying with this man, nothing but talking to this man as long as she could. He pulled her back down against the tree, leaving his arm around her. Stella’s breath caught as she realized he was going to kiss her. Again, she felt like a little schoolgirl. She had never been kissed before.

His breath was hot on her skin as he leaned down to put his lips on hers. Tristan nearly gasped at the softness of her. She was perfect. The kiss was tender and gentle, pure even. Stella closed her eyes and let herself fall into it. She felt like she was jumping off the highest turret of her castle, falling and falling. It was like nothing she had ever known before. Her whole body responded to the kiss; she grew hot and she felt achy in places she had never ached before. Tristan’s hands framed her face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slowly sliding between her lips to explore her mouth.

He held her tightly to him, her small and dainty body pliant against his. Stella relinquished herself to him, helpless against her building passion for this man whom she had just met. She still didn’t understand, didn’t care to understand. She could no longer think. She could only feel. And what she felt was his hands on her skin, his lips on hers, and his body against hers. He was all hard muscles and she longed to touch him back. She delicately put her hand on his chest. He groaned into her mouth while kissing her still and she took that as a yes. She explored him with her hands, each new touch causing an untold reaction in him.

He gingerly laid her back onto the grass, careful not to put too much of his weight on her. He tugged at the buttons and strings of her dress until it was open before him. He gasped at her nakedness, for he could never have imagined a more perfect woman spread out before him. She was slim, yet curvy, her skin of porcelain, a patch of curly blond hair guarding her womanhood. He ran his fingers down her chest, past her perfect breasts, to her stomach and poised his fingers at the entrance to her virginal canal. She opened her eyes and looked at him, curious about what was to come next. He kissed her gently, watching for her reaction as he plunged his fingers into her hot wetness. Her back arched and she cried out in pleasure. He worked his fingers inside of her, plundering her with his hand, exploring every inch of her sex.

Stella had never felt these things before and thought she would go mad. Spasms shot through her body and she was so warm despite the chill of the impending evening. She wanted more of him. She tugged at his clothes, silently telling him she wanted him to be naked with her. Tristan was out of his clothes quickly, and lay next to her with his throbbing member pressed against her thigh. Stella saw this and her eyes grew wide. It seemed too big to fit inside of her. She was afraid.

“I would never hurt you, my love,” Tristan whispered to her. “Never.”

Stella nodded and Tristan moved on top of her, waiting. She pulled him to her, holding on to him seemingly for dear life. He entered her slowly, trying desperately not to cause her pain. The pain shot through her but in one instant was gone and she was flooded with intense pleasure as he filled her with his beautiful cock. They clung to each other as they made love, matching each other’s rhythms as though their bodies had been built to do this dance only with each other.

Tristan increased his speed gradually, wanting more than anything to bring this lovely creature to orgasm. He wanted her to feel the pleasure he felt, he wanted her to know the beauty of this act. Her sex was tight around his, he knew she was close. Her nails dug into his back and she felt an eruption shudder through her body, leaving her shaken and slaked. Tristan smiled knowingly and released himself into her, his seed pouring forth into her womb.

Tristan held her as they lay in the grass, basking in the moonlight over their heads. She was still shaking from the quake of her climax and he sought to soothe her. When she looked up at him, though, there were tears in her eyes.

“I must go. My parents will be worried sick. I shouldn’t have done this, I shouldn’t have been here with you.”

She grabbed her clothes, got dressed so quickly he hadn’t the time to say a word to stop her, and rode away on her horse. Her tears stung as they poured down her face, dried almost instantly by the wind. She was a princess. She would be married soon and she had just given herself, given her most precious of gifts, to a stranger. What had she done? How she would shame her parents who had never been anything but loving of her. Stella cried all of her tears out by the time she reached the castle. She wiped her face on her sleeve and entered through the front door.

The King and Queen were in the dining hall, awaiting her presence to start dinner. Stella walked in, feeling ashamed and afraid. Her parents smiled at her, and exchanged glances when they saw how disheveled she was.

“Stella,” her mother began, “I have told you repeatedly not to ride your horse in such a way. Look at you, you are a mess! And when we are having a most important guest to dinner…”

“I’m sorry, Mama. Shall I go clean up?” Stella asked, relieved beyond measure her mother blamed her riding for her current state.

“Please do, dear. And hurry, we have someone for you to meet. He should be here shortly.”

Stella excused herself and sped up the stairs to her room. She combed her hair and twisted it up into an elegant coif. It was the best she could do. She also changed her dress. She put on an elegant midnight blue velvet dinner gown. She checked her appearance in her looking glass and started down the stairs.

She halted in mid-step as the full meaning of her mother’s words connected in her brain. Someone for you to meet, she had said. Oh, no, thought Stella. Not today. Not this night! She knew it would be a prospective husband, prospective only if her parents had not already made the deal. It was unlikely this was the case. Stella felt fresh tears blossom on her face as she remembered the stranger and his effect on her. She remembered his eyes, his kind smile, and how they had talked. She had never been able to talk with anyone the way they had talked. Oh if only she weren’t a princess. She could marry whomever she chose. Dismally, Stella made her way down the stairs to rejoin her parents at the dinner table.

Seated in the place across from Stella’s usual seat was Tristan. He, too, was cleaned up and he looked so handsome Stella thought she would faint on the spot. She looked at her parents to see if this was some sort of joke. They were smiling at her.

“Stella,” the King said, “this is Prince Tristan. He has asked for your hand in marriage and we have agreed to the terms. I think you two are perfectly suited for each other and have no reservations that it is an ideal match.”

The King smiled at Stella as he gestured to Tristan. Tristan stood from the table, and walked around to where Stella stood riveted to the spot. She didn’t think she could move if she tried. She was frozen in time and time had stopped when her father said Prince.

He knelt before her and took her hand. “Princess Stella, would you do me the honor of being my wife, someday my Queen?” Tristan winked at her as he gazed lovingly up into her face. Stella began to cry then, and managed to sob out a yes to him. He stood and kissed her, picked her up and whirled her around the room in a celebratory dance.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. “I loved you from the first moment I saw you.”

Stella smiled and was happy.