Carnal pleasures

Isabelle closed her eyes, exhaled slowly.

It had been a while, how long? A couple of hours maybe, ever since she was there, in a sense trapped, with no way out.

She sat on one of the comfortable and precious upholstered chairs in the room and helpless, she observed how in those hours she had now lost everything.

On the throne, where it would now be her fate to sit, lay a usurper, a man with half the family blood in his veins but who by far did not deserve as much power as she did.

Connor Jones sat there on that majestic throne, he had taken everything away from her now, everything she had always been used to: her power, her family, her castle, her crown.

And now he was sitting there and what most infuriated the lady was that the man who sat a few meters from her, the usurper was also incredibly beautiful.

Connor possessed the same golden, soft, wavy hair, typical of the Hannovers, he possessed a thin, soft-looking face and two large blue eyes that he most likely inherited from his maternal side.

Isabelle observed the man with a look neutral to the situation, obviously she was angry, but she too was a lady and as etiquette imposed she was forbidden to express such strong feelings against a lord.

She was forced to sit there, with her long, beautiful wavy blonde hair falling down her back reaching her bottom.

She could smell them herself, it was a sweet, caramelised perfume, it smelled of a thousand spring flowers and lavender, it was an exceptionally delicate and fine smell.

Isabelle was forced to stay there and mingle with the usurpers: the Jones: a family that had recently turned out to be so much worse than the Hannovers.

Obviously they weren't the type of people to finish their fun immediately, on the other hand Isabelle was their hostage, their key to everything, like a puppet in their hands and they knew they had to keep her alive because if they lost her they would lose everything.

The lady turned her big eyes to the right and to the left, she analysed the scene, the room, the characters that characterised that speech.

Beside Connor sat a man to his right, somewhat older than he, but who nevertheless bore a certain familiar resemblance to him.

She knew him: Jacob Jones, a man who, though more mature than the other, had no qualms and had a very low interest in keeping alive a person who was officially their opponent.

Isabelle looked around the room, all the banners of House Hannover had been dropped and burned, she found that rather sad since the banners of her family represented much more the grit and strength of Britain.

As for generations it had shown the symbol of the golden lion on a background of dark red, much more powerful than the new coats of arms was.

The Jones' flag was much finer, more delicate, a light blue background, almost the colour of the sky, marked in the centre, side to side by a cross of a dull yellowish, mustard colour.

In each of the four lateral sectors created by the cross there were three rows of flutes, each joined together at the base, which honestly did not show any symbolic sign to her.

Isabelle was noticeably bored as she began to faintly click her fingers against the armrests of her soft and comfortable padded chair.

Connor and Jacob Jones communicated with each other, exchanged small proud smiles and whispered words, which from the distance were not too interesting or to hear.

No, no, it couldn't be, Isabelle was born for that role, she was raised and educated in order to reign over her kingdom one day and surely she would not easily have accepted that a stranger from another family could oust her so easily.

So in a single long moment of boredom and anger the young woman decided to do what she was the best at: ruining everything.

-So, so...- admitted the princess, booming her soft and sweet voice inside the huge throne room, making it echo -since when were the old banners so inappropriate to be torn apart and burned between the flames?- asked the princess with a strange air of sarcasm in her gentle tone.

-Since the banners belonged to House Hannover, which at this moment apparently is no longer in charge...- admitted Connor above the mighty and majestic throne, positioned in the room above the long and wide staircase in white and precious marble.

Isabelle observed her young cousin placing his eyes on her sweet face with a cold and deep blue colour, it was no secret from the way he looked at her that he was actually physically attracted to her, on the other hand who was not...

Isabelle apparently looked like an angel: golden hair, big deep eyes, a perfect body.

Precisely for this reason perhaps she had to play all her cards on the table while she still had time and opportunity.

-And therefore, given the fact that we will live together for a long time in this place, why not tell me some details of your life, before coming here to usurp the power...- the princess asked again arranging comfortably, but neatly her body on the soft upholstered armchair -especially from you, Jacob, out of curiosity I would appreciate to know how you killed Georg Hannover, since it all seems like a remarkable undertaking...-.

At those words it seemed almost as if a spark of anger appeared in the eyes of the elderly lord, it was as if in that moment and with that single sentence much of the past and of his problems had been brought back to the man's mind.

Jacob began to sweat, he had usually always been careful not to mention that event in front of his nephew, as Georg had in fact been the biological father of the young man but to those words, which he knew were predisposed with hatred, it seemed like a spark of fury had sprung in the lord's small brown eyes.

-You would have done it too in my situation, I'm sure, my sister was only seventeen then and I assure you that finding her laying in her own blood after being raped was one of the worst things that ever happened to me...- the man admitted taking the glass of wine he held in his hand between his fingers and slowly handing it to his dry lips.

Connor threw a look of interest, but at the same time of hatred towards the princess, he knew exactly she wanted to point to something specific, but he also knew on the other side to what disastrous conclusion the situation could reach.

-I just asked out of curiosity, you know, Georg Hannover was already dead before my own birth, so I suppose it's normal that I feel curiosity in his end- Isabelle admitted playing with one of the locks of her wavy and shiny blonde hair.

-It is certainly not a pity that I saved my younger sister from bleeding to death and it is not even my pity that I killed Georg Hannover for what he had done, by cutting his throat with a dagger and throwing his body into a ravine, everything is not considered a pity, not if done for the better good...- the man admitted placing the precious and transparent crystal glass with strength and anger against the precious wooden table, almost strong enough to do so to break.

Connor knew he had to intervene in that moment, he knew what that situation could bring and what exactly shouldn't happen.

But he was struck by a fact, why did Isabelle continue to provoke a man who already possessed a short patience towards her? Was she really that stubborn to die? Because she knew that if she died, the whole Jones' plan to act would go up in smoke.

He could not allow that young woman to reach that goal, not with such simplicity, otherwise there would be no lasting fun in the game they were playing.

-Don't worry so much uncle, we know that what you did for my mother was a noble gesture...- Connor admitted, bringing his strong diplomatic skills into play in that situation.

He would have fixed the situation again, it was a tough battle that was not possible nor even admitted that their opponent could so easily receive such a crushing victory.

Although Georg Hannover was actually Connor's father, he hated him for what he had done, he couldn't bear the weight of his actions and much less loved it when someone remembered the history and the man's misdeeds.

From an early age he had been taught to hate those people, the Hannovers, who in the depths of their hearts possessed a dark side, but it was almost strange, as although with hatred he felt admiration for his cousin's obstinacy and was attracted to her angelic appearance.

-Certainly I did not mean to offend you my lord, only out of curiosity I had asked- Isabelle admitted, following a weak and arrogant smile to the whole sentence which in itself had something unrealistic -I only think, given the situation in which you, Connor now find yourself as prince...I guess it is your plan to generate a worthy heir for your power...you will need a wife for this...I guess-.

Everything was going as expected, she had called the attention of the man on herself, it was like hoeing on an already damp field since she already noticed from his gaze that the cousin was actually attracted to her figure.

On the other hand, Isabelle herself was a princess and this meant that with certain rules she could do everything she wanted and among these rules there was not not playing with other people's feelings.

She was still young, she was beautiful and in recent years she had tried unsuccessfully to conceive an heir who could one day rule over those lands.

This did not forbid her to try this even with her own cousin, not especially when it meant both being in advantage.

-I make you a simple proposal Connor which we both could benefit from, I know you hate the Hannovers, yes, but I also know very well that you like me very much: marry me, we give birth to heirs and let our Houses rule together...-.

Connor seemed very interested in those words, obviously he would have liked all that and it was not an every day tempting opportunity, cooperating was in fact a good option to avoid other deaths and murders, especially before the outbreak of a war.

He was not afraid of her because he knew he was stronger, more cunning and ruthless than her and if she too tried to kill him he would have beaten her quickly.

It was also true, on the other hand, that in order to guarantee a lineage to the throne it was also necessary to conceive a child which, at that moment, both of them were in great need.

-Connor, you can't take this request seriously- advised the man next to him, sitting tense in his chair -...Connor, it was I who helped your mother raise you, I have always been like a father figure for you, remember what happened to Ezekiel...what I did to my own son to put you here and give you power-.

It was true: Jacob had helped his younger sister to raise the child, to give him an education, as she had refused to marry due to the bad experiences of her past.

Jacob had assisted his sister when at the age of twenty-seven she had died of tuberculosis and had raised her son, his nephew as his own son.

He had sacrificed his own son, the small and weak Ezekiel, just eleven years old in order to put his nephew in power and now he could not believe that after so many words he was thus falling for Lady Isabelle's invitations.

-Wait and keep quiet uncle...this proposal seems quite inviting, it would not be too reckless to join two winning forces, to strengthen each other...-.

Isabelle put a slight smile of victory on her face, she had won, she had done it and it was honestly even simpler than she imagined.

These were difficult times and therefore she would not have tried to kill him as she had done with the others, on the contrary, she liked his reckless and crazy way of doing things and she thought that at least for that period they could have been a perfect royal couple.

-Well then, I'm glad...- admitted the young woman lifting her thin and melodic body from the soft and precious upholstered chair with quick lightness -I'll be waiting for you tonight, from eleven in the evening onwards, in my rooms, I will inform the guards of your arrival...as I said I want to try so many things with you, Connor...-.

Isabelle turned slowly, she started to walk, she was satisfied with what she had done, she was proud of it and she knew very well that underneath all her hard and cold character there was a brilliant mind.

She knew how to convince, to negotiate, to mediate, but she much more simply knew what men were interested in and how to satisfy them.

-Oh, one last thing...- the princess admitted again turning to the two -Connor, make sure that at least half of my family's banners are stitched up and replaced-.