The Mercenary's Claim by Chula Stone

long hair slowly and donning her most clinging nightgown. She had noticed that Gustav was always particularly attentive when she wore this gown; its neckline was low and fitted, its lace soft and fine. When she was sure his eyes were on her, she turned to him with a soft smile. “I wanted to thank you,” she murmured in a low tone. “It’s wonderful to have Frena here with me.”
    Gustav gave her that jovial smile. “You’ve done well these past weeks. I thought it would serve as a treat for you and a test for me, to see if I’m fit for society yet. I didn’t do too badly, did I?”
    Kirsten found to her surprise that she was a bit disappointed when he didn’t pick up on her hint that she was interested in an amorous encounter. She tried again. “You did quite well.” Crossing to him, she stood behind his chair and reached over to tentatively rub his shoulders.
    “Though I suppose I shouldn’t have mentioned that man’s arm I cut off in the battle. Ouch! Watch that left shoulder. I’ve a blasted great bruise there from training last week. Wern nearly knocked my head off with a blunted lance.”
    Kirsten jerked her hands back. “Sorry!”
    Gustav stood up and strode over to the chest to get his nightshirt. “Hop into bed, there’s a girl. The night is chill. I don’t want to feel like I’m handling a snowball when I fondle you.”
    “Ugh!” Kirsten growled under her breath. She jumped up onto the high bed and pulled the curtains closed behind her in a curt manner.
    He pulled open the curtains and slid under the sheets and blankets beside her. When he reached for her to pull her towards him, she tried to turn away from him but he firmly positioned her and began the caresses she had come to expect and almost freely enjoy. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt your shoulder?” she asked sarcastically. She expected that he would draw back at her rebuke.
    Instead, he laughed. “How? You never touch me when I do this. Come, girl, let’s not pretend. We both want an heir. You’ve made it clear you want nothing more from me, but you do want that, as do I, so let’s get down to business, shall we?”
    “Down to business? Is that all I am to you? A vessel to bear you a child?” She tried to look into his face, but it was simply too dark to see.
    “Do you want to be more?” he asked, sounding truly astonished. “I know, as much as you coach and correct me, I’m not a nobleman. Never will be worthy of you. I know that. But you’re making the best of a bad situation, as am I. Now, don’t do that!”
    She had started to cry. “What do you care?”
    “I won’t bed a crying woman! Even a commoner has his pride.” He stormed out of the room. Kirsten could hear him mutter under his breath as he left, “I’ll wager Wern doesn’t have to listen to tears and sobs from Neslin.”
    After a few minutes, Kirsten heard a tentative knock at the door. Her heart clenched as she assumed it was Gustav, returned to storm at her to lie back quietly and do her duty, or even worse, to take out his anger on her backside. She stuck her head out of the bed curtains and heard Frena’s voice. “Kirsten? Is everything all right? My maid just heard Sir Gustav storming down the hall in a temper.” She slipped in the door, carrying a lit candle in a holder.
    “Oh, Frena!” Kirsten sobbed. “What’s going on? I was trying to be nice to him and he completely ignored me. Then when he wanted me, I tried to repulse him and he didn’t care. Just continued on as if I hadn’t a feeling or idea that counted for that!” She snapped her fingers to show her disdain.
    “Well, do you care for him? You can’t expect him to care for you if you won’t meet him halfway.”
    “He cares enough when I displease him. He gets so angry he hits me.”
    “Hits you?”
    “On my bottom! He spanks me.”
    “Oh, well, that doesn’t count as hitting, but it does show he cares. When did he do that? Tonight?”
    “No, back at my father’s home