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Cameron finds out about the dark side of the rings powers.
How he longed to touch them, to play with them, to never let go.
"You may now finish undressing, peasant," the Baron said, trying to strike the appropriate balance between keeping the fantasy going and not appearing rude.
"And as you do, I will tell you the story of why they call this the Midnight Balcony."
Robyn looked into the distance, over the garden, obviously feeling somewhat exposed up here on this balcony. But she had been down in those gardens herself, and would have never thought to look up here. Besides, who would be out there at this time of night? She started to slowly lower her dress further, exposing her lacy black knickers.
The Baron made no secret of watching her undress, but as promised started his story. Speaking in barely more than a whisper he said, "there is a story that, many years ago, one of my ancestors, my great-great-uncle, brought a young maiden up here onto this balcony to undress for him, so he could admire her body in the light of the full moon."
Robyn looked at the sky, comparing the conditions tonight to those in the myth. Whether or not the story was true, the Baron greatly appreciated knowing of the story, for in the soft moonlight Robyn's soft skin, her firm breasts, her bare, smooth legs, were a sight he would never forget.
"She was, understandably, nervous," the Baron continued. "After all, in those days people were much more private and conservative than they are today, and she did not really even fully understand what right of first night meant."
He looked at Robyn, eyes locked on his. The last time he had seen her she had been so much younger, and she still looked so innocent today, though it was quite obvious that she fully understood what right of first night meant. She stepped out of her dress.
"He asked her to undress and, despite her nerves, she did so, very slowly, hesitating over each item of clothing, blushing profusely as her most intimate parts were displayed to the entranced baron."
And now Robyn put her thumbs in the waistband of her knickers, preparing to expose herself just as her fellow peasant had done for the Baron's ancestor all those years ago. The Baron's eyes stared into her crotch, desperate to see that part of her that by legal decree belonged to him, for tonight at least.
Robyn took a deep breath, again looked out over the garden, perhaps remembering the enjoyable hours she had spent there with the Baron, then lowered her knickers. The Baron stared at Robyn's bare crotch, at the pubic hair that adorned it, thick, brown, curly hair. Taking a deep breath, running his eyes slowly up over her stomach, up over her breasts, up eventually to her own eyes, he finished the story:
"And it was the most beautiful sight the baron had ever seen. He said to her 'you are no peasant, you are a princess', and insisted that he had no jurisdiction over her. He asked her to get dressed again, and they stayed there, talking, laughing, enjoying each other's company for hours. Eventually, the clock struck midnight, and it was no longer her eighteenth birthday. The baron no longer had any right over her, and she left, still a virgin.
"That night she left the village and disappeared, never to be seen again. The baron spent his entire life seeking her, but never found her, and was eventually driven mad with despair."
Robyn had been listening to the story intently, captivated, her face lighting up at the Baron's ancestor's description of the peasant girl, obviously hoping that the Baron felt the same about her. But at the story reached its conclusion, her face fell further and further, until she appeared ready to strangle the Baron if that was what it took to stop the story.
"Um... that's an... um... lovely story," she said, raising her eyebrows. "But shouldn't we be heading to the bedroom now? After all, you don't want the clock to strike midnight with me left a virgin... do you?"
The Baron took the point.