You decide not to put him in his place

You look at his smile and despite his lewd comment, you realize it is impossible to be angry with him. If you are completely honest the comment has exactly the opposite effect on you. You cannot help imagining standing in front of Sir Francis, your body merely covered by your thin nightgown. Immediately your blood rushes into your cheeks and embarrassed you try to avoid Sir Francis gaze. But his knowing smile tells you that he knows exactly what you think. Without asking for your permission he steps closer and grasps your hips. Coming from his armor, the distinctive smell of polishing oil penetrates your nose. But buried beneath you can sense a whiff of his body scent.

With every moment it becomes harder to formulate a clear thought. Slowly the rational voices in your mind fall silent. Sir Francis looks down on you, as his lips move closer to yours. Then he presses his mouth onto yours. His kiss possessive and demanding, as his body presses you against the cold stone wall. His hands wandering over your body. You cannot suppress a shiver, as you moan into his kiss.

Then suddenly it is over. Disappointed you open your eyes, searching for his lips. But his mouth is already beside your ear. The stubble of his beard scratch over your cheek, as he whispers: "I kept you alive all these years. Maybe now that you are a women it is time to make up for it." He takes your hand and pulls you back in your room. You know, that you should not be here. You should hold court, looking for an adequate husband, but somehow Sir Francis makes you forget all your duties. He closes the door behind you, lays his hands on your shoulder, and pushes you on your knees.