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Hans My Hedgehog: "I want to catch you up and sing to you. I want you to love me."

Princess of Sweetness and Cherry Pie: "Yes, sir."

Hans My Hedgehog: "Do you find me very ugly?"

Princess: "No, sir. Not so ugly as going back on a promise."

_ _-- Hans My Hedgehog, The Storyteller

Chapter 4

The next morning, Ainsley came as before to collect Cherry and wrapped her kindly in a housecoat. Cherry was surprised: it was as if the woman had anticipated the prince ripping off her dress. As Cherry sat over breakfast on the balcony again, the head maid calmly confessed that she knew what would happen. She and the maids had put pheromones on Cherry with the intention that the prince would have such a reaction.

Cherry stared in amazement at the woman over her steaming teacup. "But why!" she asked with wide eyes. She set the cup down and regarded Ainsley over her pancakes in amazement.

Ainsley, who was sitting in her chair with her hands folded in her lap, shrugged calmly. The woman appeared to be late-fifties-early-sixties. She had been a great beauty once, Cherry could tell, but her hair had already turned completely grey. The silvery tresses, however, set off her gray eyes wonderfully. She had told Cherry once that she was the prince's wet-nurse when he was in swaddling, and the reason why Ainsley was there suddenly became clear. In fact, Ainsley went on to tell Cherry that the prince dragged her along everywhere he went.

"He ripped my clothes to shreds," Cherry said, hugging herself. "It frightened me!"

Ainsley smiled. "I'm sure it did other things for you as well."

"But why make him do this? Is it a part of lifting the curse? I don't understand what sleeping with him each night is going to achieve."

Ainsley shook her head. "You don't have to understand, girl. Just trust us and do what we say."

"Trust you blindly?" Cherry said crossly, and sawing at her pancake with her fork, she cut out a slice and ate it. Her angry blue eyes were fixed on the head maid.

Ainsley sighed, looking off at the ocean. Gray licks of hair tore from her impeccable bun and slapped across her tired eyes. "Surely," said Ainsley, relenting, "you have come to realize that lifting this curse will mean falling in love with him?"

Cherry froze. She set down her fork and swallowed hard.

"No one," went on Ainsley, "has ever been able to love him. In spite of the fact that he's taken so many maidenheads . . . you know the easiest way to a person's heart is to give them that first moment of true intimacy."

Cherry's long lashes fanned down and she tried with all her being not to blush.

"This is why they must be virgins; this is why they must be innocent. He has a better chance that way. But you can imagine, even after they have lost their innocence to him, many girls remain horrified by his affliction and bed him in tears each night. If a woman of innocence and loyalty can learn to love him, the spell will be broken. We can see you are well on your way to loving him, and this is good." Her gray eyes searched Cherry, who realized with a flutter of her lashes that she was waiting for a confirmation.

"Yes . . ." Cherry answered in a low voice. "I don't know that I love him. . . . I know I like being with him, hearing his voice . . ." she gazed off happily, "playing in his quills. They're so incredibly soft . . ." She glanced at Ainsley and bit her lip. She frowned. "You told me only the day before not to love him, that he would never care for me because of Princess Rhiannon."

Ainsley smiled. "That was a test, girl, to see how much you wanted him."

"And the perfume? Why make him . . . wild like that?"

Ainsley was still smiling. She shook her head. "Are you blind? The prince likes you as well. Whenever he likes a girl, he tries to hold off on sex. We encouraged him to know that intimacy, for otherwise his feelings will never blossom. And . . . he'll never be free." She frowned sadly.

Cherry ate more of her pancakes and was silent for a long time. The prince liked her? She never would have guessed. He was not unkind but he did not seem overly fond of her either. He took her to bed like a reluctant necessity, like part of his daily routine. She was his toothbrush! And the night before, when she stroked his quills and lay on them, he had never once turned to hold her in his arms or look at her or even acknowledge her. He turned his face away, ignored her completely, and went to sleep. And, god, how it hurt.

"Trust me, sweetheart," Ainsley said quietly, and Cherry glanced up to realize she had been watching her in amusement for some time. "I have known his majesty all his young life. I know it when he feels for a woman. He feels for you. If he would just give in . . ." Ainsley sighed.

"So why didn't the other girls break the curse? Not the ones who were afraid of him, but the ones who wanted this? I saw many come back angry that he had rejected them." Thinking of Delilah, Cherry frowned uncertainly.

Ainsley nodded. "Those girls never cared for him, just his riches. That's why they were so agreeable. One girl - everyone called her Sandy - was so impatient to break the curse, she snuck into his majesty's room in the middle of the day. Of course, Prince Ronan was in his human form. She saw him and fell in love, but it was too late after that. Her greed kept the curse from being lifted and she was sent home. Another girl we caught stealing." Ainsley laughed flatly. "And another girl just didn't get along with his majesty. She would scream terrible things at him, and his quills would stand on end, ripping all his clothes to shreds. He was furious . . ."

"What about . . . Delilah?" Cherry asked carefully. She took another sip of her tea.

Ainsley smiled. "Ah, Delilah. She was a minx. Of course, we found out she wasn't a virgin. Some girls are lucky enough that their maidenhead can stretch without breaking. And they can go on pretending to be virgins for a long time."

Cherry's eyes grew round. "So how did he find out?"

"She told him," Ainsley said simply. "I think she had come to like him as much as you do, though she never came close to making him want her back the way you have . . . Virginity is a necessary part of the cure. The witch said it must be a virgin, innocent and loyal, and she must love the prince . . . and the prince must love her."

Cherry sat very still, letting all of it sink in.

"Of course," went on Ainsley, easing up from her chair, "we had other soothsayers and Wise Ones confirm the witch's words. Because if she was lying, then all of this will have been for not." She stopped and regarded Cherry with cool gray eyes a moment. "It goes without saying that you will tell his majesty none of this - not about the perfume and not about him having to love you."

Cherry blinked, surprised. "He doesn't know he must love me . . .?"

"No," Ainsley said at once, "it must come naturally and with time. So don't try to force him or push him and certainly don't talk about it. You'd never guess it, but he's incredibly sensitive and shy. Which is why he recoils from his own feelings so when he likes a woman. He is also still infatuated with her highness Princess Rhiannon. I wasn't lying to you about that."

Cherry swallowed hard and looked glumly at her plate. She glanced up when she felt Ainsley smoothing down her red curls.

"Chin up, girl," the maid whispered warmly. "Everything will be alright."

But Cherry couldn't chin up. That night, when she entered the prince's bedchamber, he was out on the balcony, playing chess against himself. The fire was roaring on the hearth, and she could tell by the sprinkling of hairs on the chair that he had been sitting there for some time, waiting for her. Tonight, however, she had taken her time coming to him. Ainsley's words that day seemed to drain the hope and joy out of her. She felt as if she had been given an impossible task. That the prince should fall in love with her was laughable. He thought she was bizarre, a freak, who got off on the fact that he growled like a beast, licked her like a dog, and had teeth that could gnaw through furniture.

And tonight, all of it would happen again. He would make love to her and she would sigh and swoon, and when it was over and she longed to cuddle with him, he would turn his back and ignore her . . . coldly and quietly.

"You're late," the prince said when Cherry stood over him. She stiffened with fear when he halted and began sniffing with his black snout. Oh god, he was going to smell the pheromones, and then he was going to rave.

The prince scowled. "That perfume again! I told them not to --" He looked at her suspiciously, his liquid black eyes gleaming. "Did you deliberately put that perfume on? Did you deliberately let them?"

"No, your majesty," she lied at once, dully and despondently. She suddenly wanted to return to her bedchambers, curl up in her bed, and cry. No, she wasn't a lucky girl. She was the most unfortunate girl in her village that she had been given this impossible task. And then what? Even if he loved her in the end, she could never have him! He was a prince and she . . . was a milkmaid.

Seeing her misery, the prince's eyes softened and swiveled again to the chessboard. She watched as he started placing all the pieces in their original positions. She was surprised when he gestured for her to sit opposite. They began to play. And they remained silent for such a long time, Cherry was startled when the prince suddenly spoke.

"What is the matter, Amarantha? Are you homesick?"

Her heart fluttered. Anytime he called her Amarantha, it made her indescribably happy. The fact that he had remembered her name at all made her happy.

"No, your majesty," she whispered. She pinched a pawn in her fingers and started to move it.

"No," he advised at once. "Don't you see my knight there? It will take you. And you have no backup plan. You must use pawns to lure my pieces into traps . . ." He glanced at her. "Haven't you ever played chess before?"

She had, though she wasn't good. And she was too nervous and miserable to think. She fumbled as she tried to find an answer and dropped her pawn. Many of the pieces scattered. The prince gave a shout and caught one deftly in his claw before it hit the floor. He glanced at her irritably and started placing the pieces back. She guiltily avoided his eye, feeling like a fool: the chess pieces were shaped of gleaming marble and could shatter like glass. It took her a moment to realize that many of the pieces were actually erotic: the queen had breasts with nipples and stood with her arms above her head, while the king and his bishops had erect penises. Even the horses of the knights were aroused. She blushed furiously.

The prince sat back and regarded her thoughtfully. "What's the matter, Amarantha?" he said softly. "Tell me." His black rodent eyes studied her with concern.

You will never love me, Cherry thought dismally, and I will go home empty-handed for all my trouble and pain here. Not just the pain you caused my sex, but the pain you caused my heart.

"Amarantha," he repeated, as if commanding a response.

"I-I . . ." Her lip trembled. "Nothing is the matter, your highness."

He shook his head and the mass of quills rustled. "You're a terrible liar. But if you do not wish to speak of it . . ." He waved a dismissive claw.

Cherry bowed her head. "Thank you, your majesty."

"You look beautiful tonight," he told her. "Don't worry; I'm not angry with you about the perfume. I know it's probably Ainsley's doing. I shall have to discuss this with her."

Cherry nodded, not looking at him.

"At least the dress is better this time," he went, as if to himself. "Lower neckline. I can see your breasts. Every time you breathe, it's exquisite. Look at me."

She did as she was told. She thought his furry face was like a snowman's: three black dots for the nose and eyes. The quills slanting away down his back were like spiky hair. She wanted to touch them again, remembering how unbelievably soft they were. God, like feathers against her hot skin. Like feathers.

"Hmm," he said, "they didn't overdo it on the makeup this time. Good. If I wanted a whore, I would have sent for one from the brothel." We went back to righting the chess pieces. "Are they treating you well? No requests or complaints?"

"I . . ." she hesitated, "have a request."

He didn't look up. "Yes?"

"Make love to me."

He halted. When he looked at her, she could see he was confused, perhaps astonished. He frowned. "Eager for your riches, are you? So eager to break the spell."

Cherry glowered, wishing he would stop saying that. She was eager to kiss him, touch him, feel his tongue between . . . she blushed furiously and he was even more perplexed.

"Ah," he said, going to back to the chessboard. "I forgot about your hedgehog fetish. Tell me . . . what is Odiwir like? Odipes told me today that you hail from there."

She looked at him, suddenly feeling pleased. He had been talking to Odipes about her! "It's a very small village. My papa owns a farm on the outskirts. We raise cattle."

"And what will you do with your money when this is over?" He continued moving the pieces into place, not looking at her.

Cherry blinked. It had never occurred to her. She smiled slowly, dreamily. "I will buy a house for Papa and have a physician look at his leg. I will sell the cattle, and he will never have to work again."

The prince looked at her curiously. "And nothing for yourself?"

I want only you, your majesty. "I want only to care for my papa, your majesty."

"Hm . . ." He pinched the flesh between his small eyes and yawned momentarily. She saw his white rodent's teeth in a flash.

"His majesty is tired."

"Yes," he admitted. "I would like to sleep tonight, if it's all the same to you --"

"It is not all the same to me," Cherry said over him, and he looked at her as if he hadn't heard her right. "I made a request. His majesty must touch me tonight."

The prince shook his head. "You sick girl. You should recoil from me; thank me for granting you this mercy. You're lucky I haven't yet gone wild and ripped that dress off your body. The perfume is making me tense."

Cherry's heart leapt to hear such a thing. She looked at the chessboard and whispered defiantly, "I won't go."

"You little nuisance," he sneered, "so eager to get your riches and care for your father, you can't see the danger before you. Did they tell you about the girl who was shredded by my quills?"

Cherry looked at him quickly, eyes large.

The prince smiled slowly under his black snout, flashing his sharp rodent teeth once more. "No, they didn't tell you. How wise. It's a horrid tale."

"Why did you hurt her?" Cherry whispered.

"It wasn't on purpose, girl." He sneered again and gestured with an angry claw. "She insisted on provoking me. As I was turning away, she grabbed my quills. They sprang up on reflex and her entire front was shredded."

Cherry sat very still, horrified.

The prince smiled sadly. "And you . . . you think they're so soft, so lovely. They are hard and deadly when I am angry."

"I don't wish to anger you."

"Then go back to your chambers. Go to bed."

"No. I will not be pushed away because you are afraid."

"What did you say to me!" he demanded in wonder. He sat very still, regarding her with narrowed black eyes. His claw rested calmly on the chessboard, but she knew he was seconds away from pushing himself to his feet.

Cherry took a breath and went on bravely, "You keep telling me I should fear you, but you are the one who is afraid! That is why you won't have sex with me tonight! That is why . . ." Her voice trailed away under the cold fury of his stare.

A silence fell between them, and the prince stared at her for such a long time, Cherry wanted to hide under the chessboard. She had done it now. Oh god. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut and gone back to her room?

"I fear nothing," he hissed at last, "especially not you!" Cherry screamed when he smacked the table aside. The chessboard and its fragile pieces went scattering and shattered to crumbs on the polished floor. He snatched her by the arm and yanked her to him, and her chair fell away behind her. In flash, he was tearing at her dress. She screamed and cried, begging him to stop, she would take it off, but he told her to be quiet, for this was what she had asked for, this was what she wanted.

"Majesty . . .!"

"Hush." His claw grabbed her collar and yanked. She turned her face away as the fabric tore audibly, revealing her naked shoulder and one of her breasts. It began to flap as he jerked her around. His claw grabbed the fabric on her back in a bunch and yanked. Another rip and she felt the dress splitting down her back. She was crying freely. He was grimacing and growling and his quills were quivering, threatening to stand.

Suddenly beside himself, he jerked to his feet and swung her into his arms. He carried her away into the bedchamber, his breathing coming ragged and loud. Her breasts were heaving, the bare one rigid with her pink nipple as it rode with her breaths. She started to sob. She whispered pitifully that she was sorry. His black eyes were unforgiving. He hated her now, and it made her miserable.

He threw her down on the bed. She backed away, sobbing, breasts heaving, and watched as he tore his trousers open with a jerk. His rigid desire sprang free, covered with the thin veil of glossy hair she had loved so lick. He leaned down over her and reached for her dress again. She fumbled to stop him, whispering hoarsely through her tears, "No, not like this!"

"You dare!" he hissed and smacked her hands away. "You dare try to stop me! This is your request . . ."

"No, your majesty . . ."

"I said hush!" he growled. He grabbed the front of her dress and tore it again, violently. She screamed as her breasts bounced free. He began to suckle her, hungrily, eagerly, and her screams softened to moans. His claws went up her skirts, exploring. He found her panties and halted, peering into her eyes. She was wet.

"You unbelievable girl," he whispered.

She gulped breathlessly, her face streaked with tears. "M-Majesty, I'm sorry . . ."

She felt a happy flutter when he kissed her warm on the mouth. As he was kissing her, she could feel his fingers sliding into her panties, carefully twisting and massaging her clitoris. It was already throbbing and throbbed all the harder. He tore her panties off with a jerk that shook her, and then he pressed himself inside, violently, relentlessly, his rodent's eyes gleaming triumph as she twisted and sighed under him. She choked when he sank himself so deep, her red curls fell in her eyes. He hunched his back to get in, harder, faster, and her skirts rustled around the friction of their joined sexes as they rocked on the bed. She knew she was probably beet red.

"I'm not afraid," he hissed at her. "Of anything! Anything! Especially not some little milkmaid with perky tits!"

"Majesty . . ."

"Perfect tits . . ." he whispered and licked her nipple. He began to suckle her again as he pounded her.

She hesitated, then stroked his quills. Her fingers found his round ears, which were velvety soft and covered in fur. She touched them as well, but they were nothing compared to the softness of his quills. She realized for the first time that he was not truly angry, otherwise his quills would have hurt her! When he looked at her again, it was her turn to be triumphant.

He glowered. "Stop smirking at me, milkmaid."

"Your aren't angry," she said defiantly, "you want to frightened me, push me away --"

"Shut up!" he growled and squeezed his eyes shut. She thought he looked very sad.

"Ronan . . ."

"You dare," he hissed, looking at her incredulously, "call me by name!" He thrust himself in so sharply, she twisted and cried out. "You forget your place, milkmaid!"

She was shocked when he backed off. Breathless, his eyes sparked angrily as he sat on the edge of the bed - then snatched her over his lap. She lay there, the wind knocked out of her. She was trembling violently and couldn't stop. Surely he wasn't going to . . . but he did. He pushed back her skirts, and after smoothing his claw over the supple rise of her cheek, the first hard slap came.

Cherry squealed. The blow left a tingling burn and her cheeks grew hot at once, stinging awfully as they vibrated. He waited a beat to let it sink in, his claw slowly rubbing. Then he grunted and slapped her again. She bit her lip, determined not to shout or cry. Sensing this, he slapped her harder and she shrilled, hating herself.

"You dare . . ."

"Ah!"

"Waltz in here . . ."

"Ah!"

"And analyze my feelings? Tell me what I feel and what I want?"

"A-Ah! P-Please . . ."

"No! No wheedling. No begging. Your sore and punished behind will be a good lesson for you. You will respect me and obey me without question!"

"Ah! No, I will not yield!"

"I think you will!" he snarled. A harder blow this time, so heavy she sobbed.

"You're afraid of your own feelings!" she accused.

"Oooo!" he exhaled angrily. The claw came again and she screamed. "Say another word. Give a reason to beat your behind raw."

Cherry was silent. She lay across his lap, and she could hear him breathing hard. He grunted softly, and she suddenly realized he was aroused. Her suspicions were confirmed when he jerked his knee up, forcing her thighs apart. He slipped a finger in her sex and moaned. The squelching noise made her blush: she was slobbering wet and her juices had plastered his finger.

"You foolish girl," he said quietly. "This infatuation . . . I pity you."

She was surprised when he pulled her upright, surprised to find herself sitting in his lap, surprised to find his eyes distant and sad. He looked at her and swallowed miserably.

"Why am I afraid? Continue these accusations. I am fully engaged."

Cherry hugged her breasts and peered at him hesitantly from behind locks of red hair.

"Speak freely," he insisted wearily.

"You like me," Cherry answered at last, "and you are afraid of it becoming more. So you push me away with his hideous display . . . your majesty."

He laughed flatly.

"Does . . ." she hesitated and asked miserably, "Does his majesty like me?"

"You ask this," he said in amusement, "as if you hadn't just accused me of it. You're like a schoolgirl with a bizarre crush. That's what this is. Yet you don't understand."

"Does his majesty like me?" she insisted. Her lip trembled.

He looked at her softly. "You are fresh and pretty and sweet. You yield in my arms, all supple curves and trembling breasts. I dream of you. And when I'm awake, I think of you. I anticipate your smell, your voice, your smile. Yes." He swallowed hard. "I like you."

Cherry trembled all over with happiness. She leaned forward to kiss him, but he turned his face away.

"Your majesty . . .?"

"No," he said and frowned. "You will not kiss me. Nor touch me. Nor look at me again!" He jerked his knee for her to get off and she sprang up.

She backed away, holding her torn dress to her naked breasts as she watched him undressing. He was going to sleep. He was going to push her away, as he'd meant to all along. Off came his boots. He grimly started to unlace his white blouse.

"They will return you to Odiwir tomorrow," he told her.

Cherry shook her head. "No!"

"Yes. Don't argue with me, girl. I'm tired. I haven't the patience anymore for your nonsense."

Cherry watched as he fumbled angrily with the blouse, and it suddenly occurred to her why none of the girls before her ever came to love the prince: he simply refused to let it happen. He was the problem here, not the girls. None of them had been persistent. None of them had been brave enough to break through his fear and arrogance and anger. None until now.

"You and your father will be rewarded for your time here," he assured her softly. "I realize you have gone through a great deal of trouble for nothing, don't think I do not. I will send my best physicians with you to Odiwir. And whatever else you wish - dresses, jewelry - it shall be yours." He let the blouse fall loose against his fuzzy chest. He meant to sleep in it, but she wished he would take it off: she missed the sight of his muscular stomach, his broad shoulders . . .

"I have a request, your majesty."

"Speak," he said wearily.

"I want you to let me sleep with you here tonight."

He frowned but said nothing.

She lifted her chin, gathering her nerve. "I want you to hold me in your arms, I want your warm breath on my hair, I want your heartbeat against mine."

He swallowed hard but still was silent.

"As you did that first night, I want you to be kind. I want you to love me."

He shook his head. "You poor child. I can not hand love to you like a bauble. Do you know what love is? Love is pain. And when you leave this place, you will leave it with a broken heart."

"Love is joy as well. I am happy in your arms, your majesty. Even if it hurts me."

He sighed. After a long pause, he whispered, "Alright."