A Novel by
Ian Thomas Healy
Copyright 2011 Ian Thomas Healy
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A forbidden act of love forever sealed his fate. Because of his audacity, Giele Stillwater lost everything that ever meant anything to him: his name, his commission, his king, his country.
Terika, Princess of Aelfland, smiled at him as she lay amid the soft pillows of her boudoir, showing the adorable dimple in her cheek. The imported Verigan silk wrapping the goose-feather pillows was cool and slick against the back of his head. The sheets were ivory white muslin and scented with a rose perfume that mingled with the spicy scents of their lovemaking. Wax candles burned on tables and dressers, their comforting flicker pushing the evening’s shadows off into corners. Incense burned in a small brazier on the princess’ headboard, filling his head with the smoke of cinnamon-wood and cloves. The soft glow of candlelight highlighted the sheen of sweat covering her skin, made flawless through expensive oils and lotions, and the steaming baths with the finest soaps and shampoos from the royal chemists. He loved the soft curves of her aristocratic body, much more pleasant to touch than the thin, hard bodies of camp whores who serviced the men of his unit.