Chapter Eight

"W hat are these beautiful, red flowers?" Isabella asked as she stood on their private balcony. All around them were urns and vases full of blood-red bouquets. They reminded her of the sapphires her mother had worn around her neck.

"Carnations, I believe," Charles said, pouring her wine. "Do you like them?"

"They are exquisite, truly beautiful. I have never seen anything like this." She stroked one of the velvety petals, of which there were many per bloom. "They remind me that I am far from home, but at the same time I am home." She smiled and wondered if he understood.

"Home is a funny thing, don't you think? It can be a place, but also a person."

"I suppose that is true." She paused. "And perhaps that is how I am feeling."

Charles smiled. "Please sit." He gestured to the chair beside him. Both were in the shade, for the afternoon was warm, even though it was still early in the year and the sun low.

Isabella sat and took her wine. "Which is your favorite area of the palace?"

"It is all wondrous, though I especially like the Court of the Lions."

"Why?" She took a sip of the wine. It was sweeter than Portuguese wine and she'd discovered she enjoyed that. "Is it the lion statues around the fountain?"

"No, not really. They are small for lions, don't you think?"

"I would agree, though I have never seen a real lion."

"Neither have I. It is just that I imagine them to be big." He paused. "It is the arches and columns surrounding the fountain that I find so pleasing…so unusual in their decoration."

"They are very beautiful. Intricate and complex, too."

"And the halls within, they are untouched by Ferdinand and Isabella, which I am grateful for, as they are quite fascinating. An insight into the people before us."

"I must spend more time there," she said.

"But you liked the Hall of the Two Sisters?"

"Oh, yes." She sighed at the memory of walking into the small room and looking up. The detail was exquisite, the marble seeming to unfold in hundreds of tiny pieces down toward the domed windows. She could have stared at it for hours, not least because Charles had wound his arms around her waist and pulled her back to his chest so she could relax as she stared upward.

"So you like it here?" he asked, taking her hand. "At the Alhambra?"

"Very much so. I hope we stay a while."

"We can stay as long as we wish. This is your court now if that is what you choose."

"It is a very grand court indeed, and yes, let's stay while we can."

"We can! It is ours." He made a sweeping gesture. "And I will build you your own private palace within these walls. You only have to tell me what you desire and I will make it a reality."

She smiled, her heart seeming to overflow. "I have everything I desire because I have you."

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "It is I who has everything, more than I deserve, more than I could have ever dreamed."

She smiled and glanced away.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." She studied the tops of the mountains, unable to rid the image of her brother's face when Charles had ordered Eleanor back to Madrid, even though he'd wanted to marry their father's young widow.

"Please, I beg you tell me." He leaned forward. "I do not wish for us to have secrets."

"It is not a secret."

"So tell me."

"My brother, John."

"The king?"

She smiled. "Yes, the king. You sent Catherine to be his bride."

"Yes, and they seem to be a very good match, don't you think?"

"They are a good match." She hesitated and took her wine again, cupping it in both hands. "But he wanted to marry Eleanor, your eldest sister, not your youngest. I believe he wrote to you asking for her hand."

He pulled in a deep breath and set his attention on a bumblebee hovering near a flower to his left. "She was his father's widow, Isabella."

"I am aware of that. I lived in the same court." She tipped her head and studied him. It was hard to equate this Charles as the man whose refusal had slashed her brother's heart.

"But did you not think that was…strange?"

"That they marry? No, Eleanor is the same age as John. She was woefully young to be married to my father. And…"

"And?"

"They were in love. John and Eleanor. They saw only each other. Only wanted to be together."

He shook his head. "It could not be."

"It shattered his world." She poured more wine. "And I had to stand by his side and watch, helplessly."

Charles stood and walked to the balcony edge. Gripping the low wall, he stared into the distance. "I needed Eleanor back in Madrid. And Catherine… she had spent too many years with my mother. As a companion. She was a maiden, unwed and unknown to the world."

"‘Unknown to the world'?"

He turned. "My sisters are very dear to me, but they are powerful in their own right, intelligent too. They understand their roles in the family. They have Habsburg blood running through their veins. They understand their duty to marry, use their education accordingly, and continue our lineage."

Isabella understood, though it was a bitter taste. "So what of Eleanor now?"

A tendon flexed in his cheek as he studied her.

"Charles?" She could tell he was reluctant to answer. "What of Eleanor now?"

"She is to marry King Francis, and now that you have given me a way to release him in a…controlled manner…that will go ahead sooner than anticipated."

Isabella's eyes widened. "And Francis has agreed?"

"Yes, it is part of the treaty I signed with him."

"Well…that is a surprise."

"To you, yes, but my brother, Ferdinand, approves. Actually, we both agree Eleanor is the perfect person to let us know if Francis is planning any more invasions or usurping."

"Your sister is to become the Queen of France and your spy." She shook her head. "I have to say it is quite brilliant if…"

"If what?"

"If Eleanor can tolerate it. I know her well, but I cannot quite decide if she will be up for the challenge or utterly repulsed."

"You will be pleased to know she is up for the challenge…at least she is now that John is married to Catherine. Before that, she was holding out hope I'd change my mind."

Isabella sighed. "I suppose as emperor, it is your prerogative to make these decisions."

"Yes. It is." He sat next to her. "But you are empress and from now on, we will make such decisions together." He paused. "Decisions that will perhaps take in the state of our people's hearts as well as the necessary politics to be addressed."

"I hope that will be the case." She pointed in the distance. "Look, an eagle."

He studied it for a moment, then said, "My grandfather, he was a wise man."

"Emperor Maximilian's reputation spread far and wide."

Charles laughed quietly. "Some things good and some bad."

She shrugged.

"He once told my father that he and my mother should wear the crown as one."

"As one?" Isabella asked.

"As one person. When my father, Philip, claimed his title as king he was doing it because he was married to the Queen of Castile."

"And it was his right."

"Yes, it was, but his father told him that Joanna was a well-educated and prudent woman who knew her people well and he must include her in decisions, that they must reign as one, the outside world seeing them as one power with which to be reckoned and obeyed."

"And one protector of their people."

"Naturally." He inclined his head and was quiet.

Isabella got the feeling there was more to be said.

"But he didn't do that," Charles went on. "Or he didn't get the chance to."

"I am sorry. I know you were young when he died."

"Yes, I was. My parents traveled to Spain and I never saw my father again and have only these last years been reacquainted with my mother."

"It is a good thing that you've reconnected."

He took her hand, weaving his fingers with hers, then studied their clasp. "It is. She is wise council, if a little somber… No, a lot somber."

"She has never recovered from her grief? The loss of her husband?"

"No. She was a feisty, fiery young woman and that hasn't changed, but now the flame burns dark—black, even—and it is true, her life has never been the same since she lost Philip. Her love must have been as soul-achingly deep as mine is for you."

She smiled gently. "His death was quick, was it not? Unexpected too. That must have made it all the harder for your mother."

He closed his eyes, sucked in a breath.

"Charles, my love. I am sorry, I…"

"The official line is he died of a swift disease, but I know differently."

"You do?"

"Yes." He banged his chest. "I believe it was Joanna's father, our shared grandfather, who poisoned him."

"But…why would Ferdinand, the King of Aragon, do such a thing?"

"For the crown, of course. He hated my father, wanted him dead so he could wear the crown in Joanna's place. He spread a rumor that my mother was la loca and unfit to rule and killed my father so he could be King of all Spain."

"That is a terrible injustice." Isabella paused. "And I find it hard to believe of the king. It is too terrible."

"You do not need to believe it." His voice quieted. "But we said no secrets, and that is a secret hurt and betrayal that I carry in me. I wish you to know it." A flash of vulnerability crossed over his eyes and his lips pressed together.

"Charles." Boldly, she stood then sat on his lap and pulled him into a hug. "I am so very sorry for this burden you carry."

He didn't answer, but he did wrap his arms around her and press his face into the crook of her neck.

She ran her hand through the thick strands of his hair and kissed his head. "But you are King of Spain now, in your mother's place. That must fill her with pride."

"Yes, she says it does."

"Good." She pulled back and cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to hers. "I am glad." She set a kiss over his lips, the first she had instigated since they'd married. For a second, she was hesitant, but then he opened up and stroked his tongue against hers.

He tasted of wine and mountain breeze and her body reacted to his flavor.

She kissed him a little deeper, pressing her breasts to his chest. In the distance, the eagle called.

"You lead me to temptation," he murmured onto her lips as he slid his hand to her breast and squeezed gently.

"So give in to it." She pushed against him. "I am yours."

He moaned softly and caught her mouth in a deeper kiss. It quickly heated and he gripped her around the waist, lifting her slightly. "Like this," he said. "Sit astride me."

"But I…" It seemed most indecent to sit on him as though he were a horse.

"Shh, I'll show you it will be good like this."

She did as he'd asked, her gown bunching up to her thighs, then glanced left and right.

"There is no one to see us," he said. "We ordered privacy. Everyone knows it would be a very bad day for them should they disobey."

His dark eyes sparkled up at her. They were full of desire and love.

Rocking forward, she felt the hardness in his breeches. "It must be terribly uncomfortable to have such a solid appendage. Especially when riding a horse."

He laughed. "It is not so solid all of the time, my dear Isabella." He cupped her ass over her gown. "Only when I want you, when I need to be as close to you as possible." He lowered his voice. "When I can barely think for wanting to be inside your sweet body."

"I have much to learn." Her heart rate was picking up.

"And I will teach you all of it." He peppered kisses down her neck and at the same time fumbled with breeches. "And you will enjoy every lesson."

She arched her back and gripped his shoulders, lifting her face to the sky and letting the warm breeze tousle her hair.

"I want you to sit on me," he murmured against her throat. "Lift up and sit on me."

Opening her eyes, she looked down. He held his cock in his fist, the tip deep mauve and impossibly wide.

"Just…sit? I don't think that's possible."

"It is." He slipped his free hand between her legs, disappearing in the material of her gown. "Are you wet for me?"

"I don't…oh…"

He'd found her cunny and was stroking through her soft folds. She trembled and curled her toes on the hard tiles.

"You are wet," he said with a smile, then he kissed her. "Your body wants mine, so do not fear anything."

"I don't fear it. Not with you."

"That is the right answer." Once again, he circled her waist and urged her to lift.

She felt the warm head of his cock probing her entrance.

"Oh, my love." He moaned softly and slid his fingers into her hair. "My urges are powerful, but I don't want to hurt you."

"It won't hurt. It hasn't before." As she'd spoken, she willed her tight muscles to relax and lowered onto his cock, just a little. But he was so thick and wide and she struggled to take his first inch. Luckily, her wetness eased his way and she stared into his eyes as she took him a bit more.

His pupils were dilated as he looked at her, and his body was tense, as though held under a powerful spell.

"Does that feel good for you?" she whispered against his lips. What they were doing was hidden from the world by her gown and she was glad of that, as they weren't in their bed.

"It is the best feeling in the world," he said, his voice seeming deeper than usual. "Being with you is the best feeling in the world."

"I am glad."

"Keep going, until you have taken all of me."

Slowly, she took his entire length, until her behind was touching his thighs.

"Oh, dear Lord." He moaned, clasping her buttocks, over her gown. "I could stay inside you forever."

"Now what should I do?" she murmured.

"Rock, like this." He urged her to grind her hips forward.

The moment she did, her sweet needy nub rubbed against his hard body. She gasped. "Oh…Charles."

"You like that?"

"Yes."

"It's hitting your little bud?"

"Yes…" She ground forward again. The sensation of his cock rubbing her inside and applying pressure to her nub was delicious. "Oh, that's good…yes…I understand now."

"So find your pleasure, my beautiful wife." He was watching her with wonder. "Use me to find your pleasure and then I will find mine."

"Yes…oh…yes." Again, she lifted her face to the sky and arched her back. She rode onto him, working her hips forward and backward, each grind up against him building the pressure within her. Each crush of his body excited her more.

Soon, she'd lost any inhibitions and was working herself toward release. It was there, her climax, and she wanted it.

"My love, you are so beautiful like this," he said, once again kissing her extended neck. "You make me crazy for you."

Isabella didn't answer because her breath had been stolen by the climax about to claim her. For a moment, she felt like a wild woman, held hostage by pleasure, and then it pulsed through her in torrents of bliss.

She cried out and clung to his shoulders as she rode through her pleasure. It filled her with satisfaction and journeyed to every corner of her body. "Charles…oh…yes…Charles."

"Ah…yes…" His face twisted and he closed his eyes. Surging his hips upward, he found his pleasure. "Isabella…" He gasped, clinging to her in a steely embrace. "Oh…that is…"

She clasped his face and kissed him, their hot, panting breaths tangling. Witnessing his ecstasy was as wonderful as feeling her own. It cemented her belief that they had been created solely for one another.

"I love you so much," he said. "Each day, I love you more."

"And I love you." She pushed his hair from his hot brow.

"You do?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"That has filled me with such happiness," he said. "I hoped for affection, friendship…but love…I didn't dare hope."

"Oh, Charles. Don't you see? I was destined to be at your side—I've known that all of my life. You are the only man for me. No other can compare or would ever."

"And you are the only woman for me. There will never be another." He paused. "You have to believe that. Even when we are apart. Even if your imagination runs wild. I will only ever want and love you. I am not a man who would cheat your love or trust."

"I do know that. You show me it in every smile and kiss, dear husband of mine. I adore you and trust you with my heart and my life."