It's been so many years but I can remember it like it was yesterday.

In those days I was known as Scott Richard, Duke of Bedford. I was the second son to my father, the King, but I honestly had no desire to pursue the crown. I had a wife, more money than I could ever possibly need, a title and a lot of responsibility.

I was absolutely miserable.

There were too many eyes watching my every move, too many expectations I'd never live up to. I learned the ways to numb myself, overindulging in wine and warm bodies. But there was one, one body that I came to crave. 

Alexander.

My beautiful servant. His skin was a wonderful expanse of sun-kissed silk and gold. It was a strange coupling. He roused a part of me I never even knew existed. I wanted to use my power against him, to hold him down,  to darken that perfect skin and leave it a mottled purple and blue.  He encouraged it, begged for it. His eyes sparkled with delight as he submitted to my hands, my mouth, my body.

It was around this time that pressure from my father to produce an heir became nearly unbearable. My wife was pretty, especially by the standards of that time, but there was absolutely no attraction to her at all. Marriages then were seldom built on love, but I was lucky that we were fairly close and mostly honest with each other. She knew my bedding habits despite our separate chambers, and did not get upset when I had to bring Alexander in to ... prepare me ... in order to bed her.

Weeks passed but still my wife remained unpregnant.

I grew frustrated, angry... moody. 

Alexander still pushed, still begged and pleaded to stay with me. He told me that he loved me. 

Those words.

I should have realized then that things had gone too far, but I let myself take out my frustrations on my willing lover. He continued to say it, those words, and i continued to brush them aside as if they were meaningless.

I sent for him more often than not but eventually, as with all toys, I began to use him less and less. 

He grew needy, desperate. He begged me not to send him away and his clinginess only increased my distaste.  He still handled his daily duties but did so mostly in silence.

It was then that my life changed forever.  My stablemaster grew ill and eventually passed. I had heard that his son had taken up his post, but the information somehow slipped my mind and when I caught sight of him for the first time I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away. 

He was all dark, unruly hair and olive skin. His eyes were focused, his hand small as he moved the brush over the mare. His body was long and lean and I let my eyes drink it all in slowly.

It took him a few moments to become aware of my presence. He gave me a shy half smile before he realized who I was. His eyes widened before he averted his eyes, a short "Your Grace" whispered between his lips as his eyes shot to the ground at my feet. 

Those lips. 

I wanted. I wanted more than I had ever wanted anything else in my life.

We exchanged a few words, nothing formal, but I wanted to shake him. I knew there were ears listening, eyes watching, but I wanted him to put etiquette aside and speak freely.

There was a rebellious spark I could see in the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when I asked him to join me for a ride, but his immediate refusal forced me to change it to an order. His shoulders sagged with submission, but I could see in the sudden set of his jaw that he wasn't used to bending to the will of another.   

I watched him saddle my horse and I dared to ask for a name. 

"So what do they call you?"

He raised his eyes to mine, clearly not comfortable with the rules of etiquette.  "Grassi, Your Grace. Mitchell Grassi." 

The way his eyes held mine all but stole my breath.  I clenched my hands together to mask their trembling. It was a strange reaction for a first meeting, but an honest one nonetheless.

He was awkward and conversation was stilted as he wasn't quite sure what was and was not acceptable.  To be honest had I been anyone else he would have ended up in the stocks or worse for his ignorance, but I found him endearing and I encouraged his candor. In fact he brought out a more honest side of me and our back and forth was beyond refreshing.

Our rides became a near daily adventure and we slid into an easy friendship. Mitchell was, despite his 'commoner' status, a bright soul. The smallest things made him happy and I found myself having to constantly resist showering him with gifts just to see him smile, although I did cheat sometimes just because.

It's such a strange thing when you begin to care about someone else's heart more than your own.  I wanted to confess my feelings, bring him to my bed and make him tremble beneath my hands, but what kind of life would I be inviting him into? He would never find a wife, have children... not with me holding him back.

So I kept my feelings locked away  in my own heart, for his sake.

My wife eventually took notice and warned me that people would begin to talk if I continued to disappear with the stable hand everyday. I knew she was right and that she was really only looking out for me, but it certainly didn't make me HAPPY about it.

I made an extra trip to the stables that night, knowing that he was always the last to leave. He said it was because he loved the quiet and the company of the large beasts. My chest filled with warmth when his eyes met mine and they lit up along with the smile that indented his cheeks.

He was so beautiful in the mix of moon and lantern light. I couldn't say anything at first.  I was mesmerized by him and I knew that I was in much deeper than I had initially realized. 

"Your Grace?" He questioned, worry sliding that smile downward.

I looked away from him for just a flicker of a second to snap myself out of it.  "Would you like to take a ride with me?" 

"At this hour?" 

"Please." 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to question you."

I held up a hand. Even after months he still questioned his actions at times. It bothered me but I also understood.

He quickly prepared two of the horses and we took off into the woods and along the trail we both knew so well. There was a huge lake that we routinely stopped at to let the horses rest and drink and that's where we ended up.

"Something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes." He looked up at me from his spot on the grass next to me. 

"I..." I tried to get the words out. For someone with the amount of education I had  I couldn't seem to think of a single thing to say. I used to be horrible at expressing myself, but that's because the world back then was so repressing. Thankfully Mitch has always known just how to read me. 

"Whatever it is, it's alright. Is it your wife?" 

"No. No Elizabeth is fine."

"It's about me, isn't it." 

I turned to look in his eyes and he met them without hesitation. It was like the world stood still and none of the other things in my life mattered. The woman I married for political gain, the responsibilities of my post, the laws of the kingdom... none of it meant a thing in that one moment. I was just a man desperately, painfully in love with another man.  

He saw right through me, somehow knew exactly what was on my mind. His hand lifted to my cheek, a move that very well could have cost him that hand, but I simply covered it with my own, nuzzling in and turning to kiss the palm.  His hands were coarse and rough, the product of a life of hard labor, and they felt a bit strange beneath my smooth, soft skin.

I'd never felt this way, nervous and vulnerable ... all for a commoner. That was the most inaccurate word to describe Mitchell. There was nothing common about him, at least not in my eyes. It wasn't until I was barely an inch from his lips that I realized just what I was doing.

Did he want this? 

"Tell me to stop, to walk away and I will. I would never hurt you or force you into anything you do not want."

Our breath mingled for a moment before he lifted his chin and closed the distance, meeting our mouths in a soft press of lips. I'd kissed others before, but I still consider that one my first kiss. It was the first kiss that ever made me feel as if my skin was on fire, tingling and begging for contact. It was the first that was it's own conversation. So many words were exchanged without actually speaking them. It was the first kiss that ever actually meant something 

My hand slid seemingly of its own volition up and over his collar bone, fingers skimming just beneath the thin fabric to the warmth below it, finally settling on the back of his neck.  

I wanted to rip away his clothes and take him right there but he deserved better than that and I knew it.

When we separated I let my forehead rest against his.

"Be my personal servant. I don't want to have to stay away from you." 

"Your Grace..." 

"Please don't call me that. In this we are equals, you and I."

"My place is in the stables with the horses. I like my designation."

I can't say it didn't hurt, the simple words and honesty were the worst kind of rejection even when they weren't really meant the way I perceived them.

"Elizabeth says people are beginning to notice how frequently I seek your company. People will talk. I don't want that life for you."

"Then we will be discreet. Maybe instead of our rides we could just meet here at a certain time of day."

I sat back to look at him, fingers sliding over the fabric covering his defined arms. "Please consider it. I know it is selfish to want to keep you close, but ... I want to hold you in my arms, feel your warmth next to me. I want to wake to the vision of your face."

He softened, and I knew if I really asked it of him that he would agree, even if it was much more work than his current station. I also knew that I couldn't let him.

"No. You are happiest out in the sun. I will not take that away from you." 

"If you truly wish it-"

"No. I want  you spoiled and pampered, never as my slave." 

"Y- Scott-"

"No. You are beautiful, special. That position would dim your fire and I don't want to be the cause of that. But know this... you've captured my heart and I will do everything in my power to keep you happy.

There were tears in his eyes as he took both of my hands. "I'm just a stable boy." 

I laughed at the ridiculousness of the truth. "No. You ... are a king. You are perfection."

"Of all the treasonous, blasphemous things to leave your mouth-"

I kissed him into silence and he melted into me.

 It was the beginning of many stolen moments we shared.

Our meetings had to be planned, but they were always worth it. I didn't bed him, didn't want to rush him, but he was so small in my arms and beneath my hands that I could bed my wife and pretend she was someone else. I no longer needed Alexander's services. It was not his body I craved.

Soon my wife was swollen with child and I was happy that the pressure to produce an heir had been alleviated. 

I grew comfortable in my life, my love. 

Everything was good until there was a visiting noble, my brother, the Prince. I'd received word days prior, but it took me as many to determine a course of action.

One morning I burst into the stables, voice booming and face red with feigned anger... all aimed at the stuttering, confused man I loved.  The other workers and those nearby cowered in my presence, but a discreet wink let my love know that this wasn't honest, but it must be done. I don't even remember what I yelled at him for, but I went full out to make it believable.  By the end he was on his knees and I ordered him to my chambers later for me to deal his punishment.

That night I paced the length of my room as I waited for him but finally a hesitant knock broke the silence and I pulled the very confused man inside.

"I'm so, so sorry I had to do that to you."

"May I ask why?" 

"My brother, Prince Andrew, he will be here by dawn. I do not want you to leave these chambers until he is gone."

"I don't understand." 

"My brother has a tendency to abuse his standing, particularly with beautiful male servants like you. I will not let him near you." I pushed some hair from his face.

"So you want me to come back in the morning?" 

I shook my head. "You can stay in the antechamber, or you could... join me in my bed. I won't attempt anything you have my word, this isn't a bid to bed you, but if it makes you uncomfortable..."

He tugged me close, raising to his toes to meet our lips.  My fingers dug into his waist, holding him close against me. Everything about him was intoxicating and I wanted to breathe in his very essence.

That night was magical and all we did was talk and snuggle and kiss, the curtains surrounding my bed drawn to close us into our own little world.  It was everything I'd ever wished and I would hold it as long as I could.

The next few days an ominous feeling hung in the air. My wife used her charms to keep the Prince and his men away from too serious conversation at least at dinner, but it always came back around. Matters of war and politics left me irritable and poor Mitchell was left with the daunting task of calming me. I couldn't have been more grateful for his presence then.  

I sent Alexander away for the week, telling him to stay as far from this place as he could until my brother had taken leave, but this left me without a manservant. When the water for my bath was brought I had Mitchell hide in the antechamber.

He would normally wait there until I finished bathing myself and came to get him, but that night things were different. I'd barely sunk down into the hot water, sighing at the enveloping warmth, when I heard his familiar footfalls crossing the floor. I kept my eyes closed, anticipation stirring deep in my belly.  I didn't want to spook him if he'd misunderstood and his presence was an accident, but he didn't leave.  He paused for a moment then moved  closer every now and then until he was barely a meter away. I didnt want to deter whatever he had in mind, so when I opened my eyes I simply lifted the rag and began to scrub at my own skin. He was silent for some time and I'd managed to clean one leg before a hand was placed over mine and our eyes met. He looked shy, innocent, but there was also a hint of mischief there hidden in those brown depths. 

We made quite the mess as we scrubbed one another clean. I carried him starkers over to the bed and laid him out on the soft bedding. I worshipped every inch of him, hoping to express my love and devotion. I took the greatest care preparing and then taking him for the very first time. My name was repeated over and over, melodic like a song as he clung to my body.

I whispered all of the words that my heart wanted to scream from the rooftops.

You are mine. I am yours for all eternity. I love you.

---

Two days later and my world came to a screeching halt.