Chapter Nine

W eeks turned into months and Isabella didn't want anything to change. Charles had been worth the wait and she thanked God every day for giving her the faith and the patience to commit to him when he hadn't committed to her.

But he was committed to her now, she knew that. They hardly slept at night for loving each other, and then they didn't rise from the bedchamber until noon most days. Charles kept meetings with nobles, council, and clergy brief because he preferred to be with her.

Luisa claimed to have never seen a man so smitten with his wife and when Isabella caught him watching her with a slight smile on his lips she believed it to be true.

"What is happening here?" Isabella asked one afternoon as they walked through the Mirador de Lindaraja garden.

"I am having new flowers planted throughout the palace," Charles said, gesturing with a sweep of his hand to the overturned soil. "Red carnations."

"Red carnations?"

"Yes, I know you love them so. It is a gift for you, so that you can visit an abundance of them should you wish."

"You are so very thoughtful." She smiled.

"In truth, I struggle to think of anything other than you." He shrugged and shook his head. "To the detriment of some of my responsibilities as emperor, I fear."

Concern gripped her. "I do not wish to distract you so much that you cannot perform your imperial duties."

"Do not worry. I have clever and intelligent noblemen to help me." He paused. "Though at some point, I will have to travel to Rome."

"You will?"

"Yes, I have been crowned Holy Roman Emperor by the electors, but until the pope places the crown upon my head, I have not secured the title for our future son. I think you'll agree it is most important that I do that so he does not have to go through the prince's election process, as I did… It was somewhat troublesome."

"I agree it is a title to which our son must have claim."

Charles sighed and looked away.

"What bothers you? The fact we do not have a son on the horizon yet?"

"No, for I know these things take time, but it also takes time for a son to grow into a man and the role of emperor is complex and requires experience."

"One not suitable for a child."

"Or even a boy on the brink of manhood. There are so many complexities within the empire, and with Martin Luther, the heretic, gaining a following and the so-called League of Cognac I must contend with thanks to Francis, who has the ears of northern Italy listening to him." He sighed. "I have power-grabbing, slick-tongued, wealthy men who seem to prod at me constantly and try to force me out of favor with the papacy with intentions of forcing me from Italy altogether."

"Oh, Charles, it is a big burden to bear."

"At least I hold Naples secure." He nodded as they walked from the garden into a courtyard with a splashing fountain. "But do not fear, my love, it is a burden I can carry. It is my destiny."

"I know that you have broad shoulders for such a weight. I also think," she said, stopping in a shady spot, "that your brother, Ferdinand, could bear it."

He frowned down at her. "What are you saying?" His tone was a little sharp.

"Why don't you name him as your successor with the provision he passes the title on to your son, not his own? That would solve the problem of needing to span a few decades, would it not?"

His frown deepened.

For a moment, Isabella wondered if she'd gone too far with her suggestion.

"The title would have been his to win had he been my elder brother, not younger." Charles nodded slowly. "It is a wise and prudent idea. Yes. I will think on it, perhaps discuss it with my Aunt Margaret, who has come to know Ferdinand well." He swept his lips over hers. "Thank you for your council."

"I wish to help in any way I can."

"You do. Every moment of every day just by breathing." He kissed the tip of her nose and pulled her close.

She giggled.

"Your Majesty." A deep male voice.

"Alvaro, good day to you," Charles said, releasing his wife. "Are they ready?"

"Yes, this way." Alvaro smiled at Isabella. "Your Majesty." He was long-limbed with a dark beard that he kept neatly trimmed and he always wore a traditional Spanish cordobés hat—a flat cap with a wide brim and a red, silk ribbon around it.

"What is it?" Isabella asked.

"Alvaro has sourced something very special for us."

"More gifts? More surprises." She laughed. "You spoil me, dear husband."

"If I gave you the moon and all the stars in the sky, it would not be enough." He kissed her hand. "But this is not the moon or the stars. Something else entirely."

"I am intrigued."

"You should be."

The enthusiasm in Charles was contagious and her heart skipped with joy as they followed Alvaro from the courtyard and down a set of stone steps toward the stables.

"We are going riding?" she asked.

"Only if you want to, but we may prefer to watch a display."

"A display? You really are being most mysterious, husband."

Alvaro entered a shaded barn and they followed.

It smelled of straw and horse tack and dust motes danced in fingers of sunlight that sneaked in through cracks in the beams.

"We must keep our voices low," Alvaro whispered.

Charles put his arm around her waist, holding her close.

"Is it something that will eat me?" she whispered.

"No, I would not endanger you," he replied quietly.

Alvaro opened a stable door and gestured for them to follow.

It was then that Isabella saw the two majestic birds sitting hoodwinked on perches.

"Oh, my, they are incredible."

Alvaro beamed, clearly pleased with himself. "This one is a gyrfalcon. Isn't it beautiful?"

Isabella stepped a little closer and studied the bigger of the two raptors. Its feathers were mainly white, though it had little, black specks on its wings that reminded her of a chessboard, one that had been set at an angle. Its hooked beak was pale yellow, as was its feet.

"He is a fierce predator," Charles said. "And has come from icy lands."

"And there he blends into the snow." She nodded. "What a treat to see such a beast." She pointed at the other bird. "And this one?"

"A peregrine falcon," Alvaro said, stroking the bird's breast with the back of his finger. "One of the fastest I have ever hunted. Almost too quick to see it stoop."

"I have heard." She was fascinated. She'd hunted falcons growing up, but these two birds were truly magnificent. "And I look forward to seeing him fly."

"We can see that now, if you'd like," Charles said.

"Oh, yes." She nodded and clasped her hands. "I cannot think of a more pleasing entertainment."

"Good." Charles nodded at Alvaro. "We will meet you at the paddock."

"Very good, Your Majesty."

Thirty minutes later, Isabella and Charles sat under the shade of a fig tree on soft, cushioned seats. A tray of wine had been set before them as well as honeyed ham and walnuts.

Isabella popped a walnut in her mouth. "Will there be mice here? For the birds to hunt?"

"Alvaro has a way to demonstrate them in action without relying on mice from the stables showing themselves."

Beside a tall wall dotted with candelabras, Alvaro stood with the birds. He had two men helping him and had just transferred the gyrfalcon to his glove. In his opposite hand, he had a length of rope with something tied onto the end of it.

One of his helpers took the hood off the bird. It roused its feathers and looked around with its beady, black eyes.

"He is quite the find," Isabella said. "A delight, for sure."

"I am glad you like him. I'd hoped you would."

"Yes, I…" Her words trailed off as Alvaro launched the bird into the air.

It took a couple of beats of its huge wings and then it was circling, gaining height.

"It's huge." She gasped. "Bigger than I could ever have imagined."

"Look, watch what's going to happen." Charles pointed at Alvaro.

He was swinging his thin rope in ever-increasing circles over his head.

"That's a chunk of meat on the end." Charles pointed. "Watch the bird try to take it."

Sure enough, the gyrfalcon spotted the food and then dived down, talons outstretched.

Alvaro snatched the food away from his reach at the last moment.

"Oh, look at that." Isabella clapped at the sight. "He didn't get it."

"He'll try again." Charles gestured to the bird, who was clearly determined as he was gaining height again and concentrating on the spinning rope. His attention didn't move from it.

Sure enough, he dived in for the kill once more.

And once again, Alvaro didn't let him catch the food.

"Oh, the poor thing must be hungry," Isabella said, hopping up and down on her seat.

"Yes, he has to be. Otherwise, there'd be no show. He'd be fed up."

"And it is quite the show." She grinned at her husband then quickly watched what was going on again.

Alvaro was swinging the rope with gusto now. He whistled at the bird, who had sat atop a stable. Wings folded in, head cocked. "Come get it!"

The bird took to the air, the ends of its wings like spread fingers. For a moment, it was silhouetted by the sun, then it came into perfect view as it swooped at the end of the rope.

This time, Alvaro let him get it, and the rope was downed to the dusty ground beneath the gyrfalcon's lethal claws.

"That was incredible," Isabella said. "I've hunted falcons before, but they're smaller and I've never seen such skill with a rope like that."

"I am glad you enjoyed it."

"I did." She sipped her wine. "You are such a thoughtful husband."

"I try to be." He kissed her cheek. "Do you want to watch the peregrine fly?"

She batted at a buzzing insect, then another.

"The wasps are devilish this year," Charles said, flapping his hand over the wine. "Always thirsty, always thieving."

"And I don't want another sting like last week." She rubbed her upper arm, remembering the pain.

"Come, let us go eat inside. We will watch the peregrine tomorrow." He stood and took her hand. "Thank you, Alvaro," he said with a wave. "The empress enjoyed seeing the gyrfalcon hunt very much."

Alvaro bobbed his head politely, then began to draw in the rope, the bird following the last scraps of food on the end.

Charles and Isabella hugged the edge of the courtyard as they headed toward their chambers. The shade provided protection from the sun and a benevolent mountain wind wafted through stone tubs full of delicate, white flowers, making their little blooms dance.

"The bird is so strong and powerful," Isabella said, linking arms with Charles. "With such stamina."

"Qualities your husband also has, do not forget that." He kissed her temple and laughed softly.

"How could I forget?" She spread her hand and breezed it over the flowers as they walked. "You show me often enough." She thought of the night before when he'd tossed her onto the bed straight after she'd finished bathing and pleasured her for hours, driving her to climax three times at least.

A shiver of desire went through her. Would they ever get enough of each other's bodies? She didn't think so. She only hoped that soon their passion would result in a baby.

"You smell good today," he said, moving in close as they walked.

"Luisa brought me a new soap, one made of rose petals."

"I like it…a lot."

"It is only you I want to please."

"And you do, frequently."

"Like last night?" she asked.

"Last night was incredible. It always is when we're together." His hand drifted from the small of her back to her behind and rested there.

Heat from his palm traveled through her body and her nipples tightened.

They stepped indoors, into the coolness the stone floors and tiled walls provided. Passing two uniformed guards with pikes, they entered the dining room. It was long with a domed roof and walls that had more strange writing etched into the brickwork. The table was laden with bread, fruit, cold meats, and cheese, along with five huge vases of flowers, several fat candles, and jugs of wine and water.

"It is fortunate I am hungry," Isabella said as a servant stepped past holding a tray of yet more food—fish and olives.

"I am only hungry for you," Charles said quietly as he stroked her buttocks over her gown. "It seems nothing else will satisfy me these days."

"Is that right?" She stepped up to the side of the table, plucked up a grape, and popped it into her mouth. "How hungry for me are you?" She set her concentration on him, ignoring the staff still setting the table. "I want to know." She stroked her tongue over her lips, catching a little grape juice.

"Very." His eyes were heavy, the way she'd learned they became when he was thinking of getting her naked. "More than you could ever imagine."

A thrill went through her. How easy it was for her husband's need to be stoked. She reached for another grape, chewed it slowly, then swallowed. "And are you going to satisfy that hunger?"

"Yes." He stepped up to her and circled his arms around her waist.

"When?" Her heart was thudding now, anticipation winging through her veins.

"Now." He dragged her close, his hard cock pressing into her over their clothing.

She gasped. " Charles !"

He reached one hand behind her and swept several plates to the floor. Pomegranates, figs, onions, and oranges scattered and rolled.

"What are you doing?" She clutched his shoulders.

"What I need to do more than I need to breathe." He caught her mouth in a passionate kiss and gripped her waist. He hoisted her upward, moving back with her.

The next thing she knew, she was seated on the table, where the food had been, and he'd stepped between her legs.

"Oh…but…" They were not alone and this was heating up fast. "Charles, I—"

His kiss was frantic as he bunched up her gown. Then suddenly, he broke away and looked around. For a second, it seemed as if the spell had been broken. But then, "Get out!" he roared. "Everyone, out. Get out now!"

There was a frenzied stampede of feet. Courtiers and staff ran past them, making for the door, accidentally kicking and trampling the fallen food as they went.

Charles didn't wait to see if he'd been obeyed—he knew he would be—and he kissed her again.

The door slammed. They were alone.

"I crave you. My cock craves you," he managed as he fumbled with his breeches. "Heaven help me, I need to get inside you."

"I crave you more." She was breathless, lust like another living feverish being within her. "Do it."

She coiled her legs around his waist and angled her hips for his cock. And he was there, hot and hard and ready.

He pulled her close again, dragging her onto his erection.

She cried out, loving the rapid entry that stretched her deliciously. "Oh…Charles."

"My love." He gripped her hair and kissed her as he started up a thumping, pounding rhythm. "Take all of me."

She groaned and kissed him back. Her cunny was fluttering around his cock and each time he pulled her onto him, her nub was compressed against his body. The need in her grew. Having him so desperate for her that he couldn't even wait for the privacy of their bedchamber was a new thrill.

"Yes," she gasped, grinding against him. "Yes, yes, like that."

He grunted a reply, sped up, and clasped her right breast.

A jug of wine fell. A goblet clattered to the floor.

She was almost there, the pressure about to overspill. Her skin prickled, and she held her breath, clutching his behind as she buried her face in his neck.

The climax was swift and hard and stole her breath. Her toes curled in her shoes and she gripped his buttocks tightly. When she did manage to drag in a breath she huffed it out in a cry of delight.

Her cunny was throbbing around his cock, her arousal slick and hot.

"My love," he gasped. "You have found pleasure?"

"Yes. Oh…yes…" She reached for him and kissed him through her gasps for breath.

But then he broke the kiss and pulled from her.

"Charles." Her eyes widened. "What are you…?" She knew he hadn't found his pleasure.

"Like this." He turned her. "Bend over the table. I want you like this."

He applied pressure between her shoulder blades and she bent forward on the cool surface. Her right hand landed on a hunk of bread. Her left in a bowl of jam.

"I want to see you like this," he said gruffly as he shoved up her gown so that her ass cheeks were exposed. "In the name of…yes…like this."

He pressed against her right foot, pushing her legs apart.

She felt so exposed, so at his mercy. In the broad light of day, over the dining table, her buttocks on show and her cunny wet and pliant. Surely, she'd have to confess this as a sin.

"You are a dream come true," he said, palming her ass cheeks. "Now get ready for me again."

She twisted to look over her left shoulder. His hair hung forward messily and his cheeks were flushed. His tunic had come undone, exposing his chest hair, and he was breathing heavily.

He angled his cock at her cunny, sliding the tip over her lips before finding her entrance and pushing in.

The new angle had her gasping and she rested her brow on the cool of the table.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, gripping her waist.

"Yes…yes…do it."

He growled then plunged deeper still.

She let out a wail of delight and arched her back. "Oh…yes…"

"I must surely…be in…heaven," he muttered, pulling almost out and slamming in again, dragging her back onto him as he thrust his hips forward.

His action jolted the entire table and milk sloshed from a bowl and a vase of flowers toppled, landing messily on a plate of cheese.

She closed her eyes and tensed. His cock was so very solid and seemed to hit a place that needed that denseness riding over it roughly. Yes, so roughly. It was good.

Fisting her hands, she expelled a breath with each of his wild lunges. The pressure was growing again, but it was different this time. It was dark and deep and thick with promise.

She recognized now when he was about to release his pleasure. His guttural gasps and bliss-infused groans and a slip of his usual fierce self-control. She let her own bliss wrap around her, pulse from her, pierce through her very soul.

He flooded her with his seed, adding to the heated wetness in her cunny, and tipped over her, his chest landing on her back as he continued to buck into her.

She squirmed and cried out, loving the spread of ecstasy that was wending through her body, over her skin and up her spine to her scalp.

The back of her neck tingled where he kissed her, where his breaths blew like a storm. She wasn't sure he'd ever been so deep inside her.

"My love," he gasped, when he eventually stilled. "Are you quite all right?"

"I am…I…" She opened her eyes and spread her sticky, jam-covered fingers. "Oh…I have never been better, despite this mess." She giggled. "Whatever will the staff think of us?"

"It does not matter." He moved her hair from her ear and kissed just below it. "For we are emperor and empress and it is our duty to produce an heir. We are just working on that."

"In all honesty, after the thrill of watching the hunt this morning and then bending over this table for my husband, I do believe we have a good chance of achieving our goal."

"I hope so, my love, but I am not against continuing to try." He moved his hips, his cock rubbing against her tender internal flesh.

She moaned softly. "I like trying," she whispered. "A lot."