Dinner for Three

The transition from the wild shore to the civilized court was jarring. We had been bathed, groomed, and dressed in the finest silks the castle had to offer.

I sat at the long mahogany table in the Grand Dining Hall. The room was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of a thousand candles in crystal chandeliers. It smelled of roasted meats, expensive wine, and beeswax.

To my left sat Prince Eric. He had changed into a formal white tunic with gold epaulets, looking every inch the fairy-tale hero. He couldn't take his eyes off the girl sitting across from him.

Ariel sat to my right. She was breathtaking. The maids had brushed the salt from her hair, pinning it up in an elegant, loose chignon with a pearl comb, though a few rebellious red tendrils escaped to frame her face. Her dress was a deep, ocean-blue velvet that hugged her waist and cut low across her chest, displaying the creamy pale skin of her shoulders and the heavy, soft swell of her breasts.

She looked like a queen. But she ate like a starving wolf.

The servants had placed a plate of roasted quail in front of her. Ariel didn't wait for the toast. She picked up the bird with her fingers, ignoring the silver fork, and tore into the meat. Grease shone on her lips. She chewed with a rhythmic, intense focus, her eyes closing in ecstasy as the rich, savory flavor hit her tongue.

"She has... a healthy appetite," Eric noted, chuckling nervously, watching her strip the bone clean.

"The sea air builds a hunger," I said, taking a sip of the dark red wine. I watched her, amused. "And the Princess is not used to waiting for what she wants."

Ariel paused, realizing she was being watched. She looked at the silverware arrayed before her. She reached for a three-pronged fork, the object Scuttle had called a 'dinglehopper'. She lifted it, looking at her hair, clearly remembering the bird's advice to comb it.

"Ariel," I said. My voice was low, cutting through the ambient noise like a knife.

She froze, the fork halfway to her hair. Her eyes snapped to mine.

"That is for piercing," I instructed calmly, holding her gaze. "Not for preening. Put it down."

She lowered the fork instantly, her cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. "Yes... Guardian," she murmured, placing the utensil back on the cloth.

Eric looked between us, sensing the invisible wire of authority I held over her. He mistook it for strict guardianship.

"You don't have to be so stern with her, my Lord," Eric said, offering me a polite but firm smile. "She is a guest here, not a student. Let her be free."

"Freedom is dangerous for the unguided," I replied smoothly. "But perhaps you are right, Prince. Perhaps she needs a looser rein tonight."

I shifted in my chair. Under the heavy tablecloth, hidden from Eric’s view, I moved my leg. I extended my boot until it found Ariel’s bare leg beneath her velvet dress.

She gasped softly, dropping a piece of bread.

I ran the toe of my boot up her calf. Her skin was warm and smooth. I felt the muscle tense. I slid my foot higher, past her knee, finding the sensitive, silken skin of her inner thigh.

Ariel’s hands gripped the edge of the table. Her knuckles turned white. She stared straight ahead at Eric, her pupils dilated, trying to maintain her composure while my boot pressed relentlessly upward toward the heat between her legs.

"So, Ariel," Eric said, leaning forward, oblivious. "Tell me about your home. Is it far?"

"It is... deep," Ariel managed to **** out, her voice trembling.

I pressed my heel into her crotch. She jolted in her chair, a small squeak escaping her lips.

"Deep?" Eric asked, tilting his head. "You mean, surrounded by deep woods?"

"Yes," Ariel breathed, sweat beading on her forehead. "Very... dense. Very wild."

"It sounds beautiful," Eric sighed, gazing at her with lovestruck eyes. "I admit, I have felt... incomplete lately. I spend my days staring at the horizon, waiting. And then you appeared."

He reached across the table and took her hand. At the exact same moment, I applied pressure with my boot, grinding against her through the thin fabric of her underwear.

Ariel was caught in a sensory crossfire. Above the table, the gentle, romantic touch of the Prince. Below the table, the dominant, crude possession of the Master.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," Eric whispered.

"Thank you," Ariel whimpered, biting her lip so hard it turned white. She looked at me, pleading silently. Stop. Please. I can't take it.

I smirked and withdrew my leg. She slumped slightly in her chair, exhaling a shaky breath.

"You look tired, Princess," I observed.

"I am," she said quickly, pulling her hand away from Eric. "The... the walking. My legs are shaking."

Eric stood up immediately, ever the gentleman. "Of course! How thoughtless of me. You need rest."

He walked around the table to her side. "Allow me to escort you to your chambers. I took the liberty of having the Royal Suite prepared for you. It has the best view of the sea."

He offered his arm. Ariel stood up. She was unsteady, but this time, it wasn't an act. Her legs were jelly from my teasing.

"And you, my Lord?" Eric asked me. "The guest wing is in the East Tower."

"I have some business to attend to," I said, standing up and buttoning my coat. "I will patrol the grounds. Old habits."

Eric nodded, clearly relieved to have some alone time with the girl. "Very well. Ariel... shall we?"

Ariel took his arm. As they turned to leave, she glanced back at me over her shoulder. I gave her a signal—a single, slow nod. Execute the plan.

A wicked light flickered in her eyes. The wolf was putting on the sheep's clothing.

"Eric," she cooed, leaning heavily against him, brushing her breast against his arm. "The Royal Suite sounds... lonely. Perhaps you could show me exactly how comfortable the bed is?"

Eric stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet. His face turned a bright, tomato red. "I... uh... well! I... if you wish! I mean... merely to inspect the mattress, of course! Unless..."

"Come on," she giggled, pulling him toward the grand staircase. "I have a game I want to play. It's called 'Catch the Siren'."

I watched them ascend the stairs. The Prince was walking into the spider's web, thinking he was about to get the romantic night of his life.

I waited until they turned the corner. Then, I moved. I didn't need the stairs. I melted into the shadows, moving through the castle with the silent speed of a Keyblade Master.

I would be there when the trap snapped shut.