Between Duty and Desire

Chapter 1

The Vale of Kings stretched wide under the twinkling stars as Amelia Hawthorne perched on the edge of the Siruke Manor, her silhouette framed against the night sky. A gentle breeze brushed against her face, the cool air tousling her raven black hair, which was tightly secured in an elegant bun with a simple hairpin.

“Amelia Hawthorne,” a voice called, breaking the serene ambience. Her keen hearing picked up the summons even from within the manor, and with a grace that seemed otherworldly, she descended from her perch. In that instant, her place beneath the stars was taken by Evelyn, a fellow servant within the estate.

Entering the grand hall of Lord Eldric’s Manor, Amelia was briefly illuminated by the flickering candlelight, revealing her striking beauty. She wore a form-fitting outfit suited for the night, accentuating her figure while her sharp and bright eyes sparkled with an intensity that hinted at her profound spirit. Her delicate nose and the inviting curve of her lips made for a captivating visage, embodying a beauty unmatched in the kingdom.

Her steps were light, almost ghost-like, gliding across the polished floors with impeccable poise.

“Your Highness,” Amelia's voice, soothing yet firm, resonated throughout the lavish chamber where Lord Eldric lay in repose, sprawled on the ottoman in a manner that could only be described as invitingly casual. His strong physique, honed through countless battles, showcased a man in the prime of his life. Yet, it was the indecent sight before her—his desires barely concealed—that sparked a simmering tension in the air.

To an ordinary observer, such a display might provoke embarrassment or shock, yet Amelia's eyes held a calm detachment, unflinching in the face of his expectant gaze.

“Undress. Come here,” he commanded, his voice laced with authority. The tone left no room for refusal.

With brisk efficiency, Amelia stripped away her attire, her expression as serene as ever. Even in complete nudity, her demeanor remained unyielding, barely reactive. She approached him, climbing onto the satiny depths of the expansive ottoman, her intentions clear. As she embraced him, her touch was both deliberate and unaffected, a silent battle of wills entwining them.

“You're not even wet. Do you want me to cause you pain?” he suggested, a smirk playing on his lips as her movements halted.

“I was not instructed to use the potion, Your Highness.” Amelia, loyal to his every command since her youth, held no room for personal whims. Seventeen years spent as his devoted servant left her emotionally fortified, trained to suppress feelings that might cloud her service. She was aware that in their intricate dance of desire, she must not succumb to passion.

It was about submission, pure and simple. To feel was to falter, and Amelia would not be that weakness for him.

“Do as you're told.” Irritation etched on his features, Lord Eldric pulled her closer, relishing the chill that radiated from her soft skin. There was pleasure for him in tightly wrapping his arms around her after their exhausting encounters.

Amelia was like a meticulously crafted doll, her soul temporarily hidden, only to emerge in the moments when the potion ignited her instincts, allowing her unrestrained beauty to express all the allure he craved.

Yet, a primal urge whispered within him; he longed to witness her lose control, to see Amelia—his first and most cherished—succumb to passion.

“Spread your legs, open yourself.” He commanded sharply, the astringency of his tone drawing forth a response from her.

Obediently, she followed his continuum of orders, her movements deliberate as she positioned herself. Her fingers traced down between her legs, parting the petals of her most intimate self, a private and provocative display performed with a serene expression. Unfazed by the act, her demeanor exuded innocence amidst the uncertainty of their circumstances, igniting a darker urge within him.

Chapter 2

Amelia Hawthorne did something she had never done before. She began exploring Eldric Hawthorne's touch, feeling a shiver she couldn't quite stifle. Satisfied, he intensified his movements, driving her to the brink of a new sensation. For Amelia, who had always remained calm and composed, the unfamiliar and exhilarating sensation was both surprising and disconcerting. She couldn't help but bite her lower lip, attempting to suppress the sounds threatening to escape.

"Mmm…" It wasn't the first time she felt this way, but as Eldric's fingers slid inside her, her inner walls involuntarily contracted, almost as if they were trying to pull him in deeper.

"You're getting wet, my little temptress," Eldric teased with a satisfied smile on his face.

Amelia couldn't find the words to respond; she could only bite her lip, her body tense and unsure how to react.

"Let it out," he commanded.

"Yes," she complied, her voice quivering with desire, "Ah…" The sound came out both sweet and seductive, and for the first time, her eyes filled with emotion—disbelief. She couldn’t comprehend that such sounds were coming from her own mouth.

"You're just a woman after all, Amelia," Eldric taunted, his eyes gleaming with a sense of conquest that surpassed even physical pleasure. He repeatedly scratched and rubbed against the most sensitive parts of her, feeling her tightness gripping him. With each intense thrust, Amelia's hands left her lips and began twisting the sheets beneath her, her body arching, toes curling as her entire being responded eagerly to Eldric's rhythm.

Eventually, she let out a long moan, her body trembling with the waves of pleasure crashing over her. The juices of her arousal soaked Eldric's fingers.

"Did you enjoy that, Amelia?" Eldric withdrew his fingers, rubbing the wet tips over her breasts, the glistening nipples perking up in response to the stimulation, glowing with an intoxicating sheen.

"Yes…" Amelia's body was still convulsing from the climax, yet she managed to respond.

"There's more to come," he warned before pushing himself inside her, the sensation causing him to hiss sharply. Amelia’s entire form tightened around him, the aftershocks of her climax squeezing him in a way that almost made him lose control.

Gritting his teeth to hold back, Eldric thrust in harder, grabbing Amelia's legs and hooking them over his shoulders.

"Look how I fill you," he growled with a feverish glint in his eyes.

Obeying, Amelia kept her eyes fixed on the joining of their bodies. From her angle, she couldn't see much, just the blur of Eldric's engorged member thrusting into her. But from Eldric’s perspective, he saw his prideful length stretching her tight entrance, each plunge pulling forth more nectar and foam from within her.

His thick shaft teased every sensitive spot inside her, and Amelia, now like a boat in a storm, could only surrender to the wild currents, each wave lifting her higher.

The overwhelming pleasure overtook Amelia's mind, clutching the sheets below her as she didn’t dare touch Eldric. She was merely a humble warden, meant to please her master, and unworthy of touching his exalted body.

"Ah, ah…" The room echoed with the sound of their joining, Amelia shivering with each powerful thrust, her pale skin bouncing with the movement. Her head thrown back in a moan, her body drained, cascading with fresh waves of pleasure, drenching them both.

Eldric was pleased. He found Amelia incredibly beautiful in this state. After a hundred forceful thrusts, he finally roared and released deep within her, knowing he could indulge fully. As a master warden, Amelia had ingested special medicines to prevent any interruptions in their duties, allowing him to take her as he wished without concern for unwanted consequences.

"Amelia…" he whispered tenderly, cradling her exhausted form, feeling her as if she had become his sole anchor in the world.

Amelia belonged to him—body and soul, now and forever.

Chapter 3

Two rounds of seasons had come and gone, and Amelia Hawthorne found herself ensnared in a web of emotions woven by Eldric Hawthorne. She was captivated by the rare moments he granted her, moments that made her forget her identity as a Silent Warden. In those fleeting times, she felt like a youthful girl again, lost in the allure of Eldric's presence, dreaming of being the one who held power over life and death in his world.

Amelia was falling in love, a mistake she had been trained to avoid since her younger years. She had learned to suppress her desires and her joys, yet with Eldric, she tasted the sweetness of passion for the first time and found herself submerged in its depths. What was once merely a position of service began to twist into something more intimate, as she looked forward to the comfort and emotional fulfillment an embrace from her Sovereign brought. During the nights when he drifted to sleep, she would sneak close, lying against his chest and listening to his heartbeat, lost in the fantasy that they were more than just a knight and his servant.

While Amelia fell deeply for Eldric Hawthorne, he did not return her affection. His heart belonged to Seraphina Whitecloud. Seraphina was not only Eldric's fiancée but also the daughter of Chancellor Alaric, a match made for power and privilege. This year, at just ten years old, Seraphina was set to be announced during the coming spring, right after Eldric's coming-of-age ceremony—an event that would see their marriage solidified. Seraphina was everything Amelia was not; noble, poised, and able to cast Amelia into obscurity simply by stepping into the same room.

Seraphina loathed Amelia from the moment she realized the latter’s usefulness to Eldric. Her heart fluttered at the thought of being his beloved, and she despised anyone she perceived as a rival for his affection. The more stunning Amelia appeared, the more resentment Seraphina felt; it was as if standing beside Amelia dimmed Eldric's allure in Seraphina's eyes.

Nineteen-year-old Amelia emanated an intoxicating beauty, one that was almost ripe for plucking. Though Seraphina was still youthful and naive, a seed of jealousy had already taken root in her heart, deepening with each encounter with Amelia. After their last meeting, Seraphina commanded her nanny to procure a mask—one painted in dark colors that concealed Amelia's beauty but failed to hide her curvaceous figure. In response, Amelia bound her chest tightly with fabric to ward off further envy from Seraphina.

The excuse for the mask was that her physician claimed Amelia's beauty might distract the prince's court. Yet, everyone recognized that Amelia seldom appeared in public, rendering the reasoning absurd. Despite this, Amelia's low status meant no one would come to her defense.

Eldric had not stopped Seraphina, and as a result, Amelia wore the iron mask for years. Regardless of the harshness of summer or winter, she knelt in the cold on the hard floor, maintaining her dignity as she entered the Princess of the Court for the latest gathering.

Today was no different. Seraphina summoned Amelia to attend, as was customary. Each time Seraphina called her forth, it meant another opportunity for humiliation, and as a mere servant, Amelia was powerless to resist. Even when wrongfully accused, punishment was inevitable.

On this particular day, Seraphina ordered Amelia to bring a steaming cup of tea to her, filled to the brim. Trained in her duties, Amelia complied flawlessly, not spilling a drop. Yet, as Seraphina took the cup from her, she deliberately splashed its contents across Amelia’s hands.

Amelia didn’t flinch, instead receiving the punishment with a silence that spoke volumes. She knelt, unmoving unless directed to rise.

Seraphina, with Eldric at her side, strolled past. Eldric raised an eyebrow, surprised at the display before him. “Amelia Hawthorne kneels here, my lady,” he noted, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“Amelia spilled tea and disturbed me," Seraphina replied, her tone light but contemptuous.

“Very well," Eldric said tersely, dismissing her punishment with those two words as he continued on with Seraphina, leaving Amelia to maintain her steadfast kneeling.

Chapter 4

After Seraphina Whitecloud left, Eldric Hawthorne sauntered back to Amelia Hawthorne, who stood nearby. "Why didn't you say it was Whitecloud who scalded you?"

Amelia initially planned to respond correctly, saying, “I deserve to be punished.” Yet a rebellious thought flickered in her mind. She lifted her chin, her bright eyes shining through the iron mask, seeming to reflect the light of Lyra, “If I could discern, would you stand up for me?”

“Not a chance,” Eldric replied honestly. He never lied to Amelia.

He could almost see the moment that shimmer of hope in her gaze dimmed—a feeling blossomed within him, perplexing yet unwelcome.

“...I overstepped; please, punish me.” Amelia knew she should feel like a mere servant, but in this quiet moonlight, her heart ached with an unusual pleasure. This pain made her feel alive, not like a puppet devoid of feelings.

“Get up; you’ve been punished enough for today,” he said, noting the chill of the stone floor of the pavilion where Amelia knelt. Even for someone as tough as her, kneeling for such an extended period could hurt her knees.

“Go fetch the healer,” he commanded, glancing at her hands, now blistered and covered in small welts. The strange feeling in his heart grew stronger.

“Yes, sir,” Amelia replied, unsure why the heaviness in her heart increased. She had never felt this way before; the pain seemed more profound than when she took arrows for Lord Aurelius.

Memories of her training with the Silent Wardens flooded back. The instructors would often remind them, “You are nothing but ants in this vast world.”

But even ants survive, and Amelia wanted to live. She wanted to love… and wished for Eldric's affection.

That night, Amelia ventured into Eldric’s chambers. He was already waiting for her. With a casual gesture, he beckoned her to sit beside him. Finally removing her mask, Amelia felt the cool air sting her flushed cheeks, now damp with sweat from the heat of the iron mask.

Amelia wiped her face and removed her garments, kneeling next to Eldric. He carelessly pulled her into his embrace, his rough fingers trailing over her knee. She winced—her skin was red and marked with scars.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“No,” she lied. She longed to ask if he even cared, but she knew better than to pursue that line of questioning; deep down, she knew his answer would be far from comforting.

“Liar. You don’t have to hide the truth from me. Show me your hands,” he demanded. Regardless of who you were, such burns were painfully noticeable, even to Amelia.

With a resigned sigh, she held up her hands. Eldric produced a few ceramic jars of ointment, and as he worked on her, Amelia marveled at his clumsiness, even as he showed a level of care in his gaze.

“Ugh…” The ointment spread across her skin, turning into a sticky paste. Amelia held her hands up, watching him attentively as he applied the salve, blowing gently on her wounds, his brows furrowing in concentration.

“This is a high-quality healing ointment. It should heal quickly once applied,” Eldric said, his tone tinged with impatience. He couldn’t understand why he had stooped to care for her wounds; he had never lowered himself to serve anyone in this way before. Not even for Prince Alaric Brighting or Queen Elenora. Eldric consoled himself, convincing his mind it was merely a whim, a moment of sympathy for Amelia.

“Thank you, sir,” Amelia said, hiding her emotions. Yet inside, she was tossed about with a storm of feelings—an impulse gripped her to embrace Eldric tightly, but she held back, knowing she wasn’t worthy of it.

“Token gratitude won’t suffice; you need to show your appreciation more sincerely,” he teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as his hands wandered, playfully tracing over her soft curves. “You seem even more alluring tonight, Amelia.”

Amelia turned slightly, presenting herself to him, coaxing him to indulge in his desires. He leaned in, kissing her rosy lips as his touch ignited a spark that spread rapidly through her body.

Her cheeks flushed crimson as sensations pulsed from her core. Beneath her, she felt a flood of desires washing over her, yet she realized her wants were trivial in this exchange.

Eldric, caught up in the moment, gestured for her to hold herself, enveloping himself within her warmth. Their bodies danced together in a heated rhythm, and from this proximity, the vibrant red of her skin glimmered alluringly as Eldric experienced a rush of excitement.

He poured all his undeniable feelings into her, like a rushing tide washing over her. The warmth surged and spilled onto her cheeks, splattering over her face, and Eldric, instinctively, wiped it away, savoring every sensation as Amelia obediently accepted, lingering every drop.

Eldric gazed at Amelia, her beauty captivating him, distracting him from the earlier tension experienced with Seraphina Whitecloud. A restlessness took hold of his heart once more.

Chapter 5

"Make sure you clean thoroughly, Amelia. Be careful not to remove the salve from your hands," Eldric commanded sharply. His voice held the authority that sent shivers down her spine. He wouldn't touch her, the mighty Sovereign, while she still had remnants on her.

"Yes, sir," Amelia responded softly, meticulously cleaning every inch of her body, taking great care not to disturb the precious salve that Eldric had applied. The whims of the nobility, she knew, could ruin a commoner like her with just a snap of their fingers, reducing her to nothing without leaving a trace. Perhaps the salve on her hands was worth more than her life.

Sometimes, Amelia thought, her sovereign could wave his hand and she would vanish like a wisp of smoke. Yet, she still hoped for a glance, a touch of compassion from those eyes that always seemed to look ahead, never down at her.

"Lie down, position yourself properly," Eldric's words left no room for hesitation. He was a star in the sky, and she, an ant in the dirt. Yet, even in this position, Amelia found a twisted joy.

Obediently, Amelia positioned herself in front of Eldric, her body a tantalizing sight. Her round hips lifted high, exposing the delicate, hairless garden that was already glistening with anticipation. Her entrance contracted, as if inviting him in.

Eldric's eyes grew dark with desire. His shaft, already spent once, sprung back to life, pulsating with need as it plunged into her waiting canal. The immediate embrace of her warmth drove him into a frenzy, causing him to thrust vigorously.

"Ahhh..." Amelia moaned, lying on the bed and surrendering to the waves of pleasure. This was the only time her master allowed her to let go, and he loved to see her like this, so wild and free.

"Whore," he growled, smacking her fleshy behind. The white skin quickly turned red with each strike, tightening their connection, making every thrust more stimulating. Each slap sent ripples through her, enhancing her ecstasy.

The sensation inside her was incredible. With every forceful push, Amelia obediently raised her hips higher, rocking back and forth, matching his rhythm, milking him.

"So tight. Does it feel good?" he asked, landing another heavy blow. Amelia's body shivered with the impact as her flower tightened around him.

"Ahhh… so good… my lord…" Her voice was sweet and pleading, stirring his blood, causing him to swell even more inside her.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his excitement building.

"Please, my lord, love Amelia," she cried, her voice filled with desperation.

"Good girl," he responded, plunging to her deepest point, hitting her cervix. Amelia felt a delightful mixture of pain and pleasure, tears gathering in her eyes.

The pleasure from their union spread through her body, and Amelia finally couldn't hold back. She climaxed, clutching the pillow, tears streaming down her face. Her flower convulsed, bringing Eldric immense satisfaction.

After countless thrusts, Eldric finally released inside her.

When it was over, Amelia crawled between his legs, using her lips and tongue to clean him. She meticulously licked every part, ensuring nothing was left, before wiping herself with a cloth provided nearby.

"Come here," Eldric said, opening his arms. Amelia nestled into his embrace, and they lay down together.

Holding her soft, fragrant body, Eldric's heart remained unyielding. "Amelia, there are few who can compare to your beauty."

Amelia lifted her head from his chest, the pain in her heart hidden behind a controlled expression. She lowered her head and listened quietly, concealing the redness around her eyes.

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