Lola awoke, alone in the barren chambers. The sun had just risen, peaking its head over the horizon to as if to gently wake her for another tedious day at French court. Lola loved waking at this time; the warm sun beaming through the gaps in the drapes, creating a glow around that lilac flower by the window sill. The light caught the spots of dust which seemed to blanket her quarters. As the mother of the King's bastard she had never expected a favourable room, though Lola did not care of her room's condition, many would kill for such dwellings she thought as Greer's helpless face crossed her mind. She decided she would visit Greer with Kenna, whom she knew would have no qualms about doing so, and began to formulate a plan so as to avoid anyone, including Mary, from finding out.
As Lola decided this, she closed her eyes momentarily so as to prepare herself for the whisperings, rumours, lies and deceit that awaited her at court. Suddenly, flashes of Narcisse's eyes and flaming touch penetrated through her body. Lola shot open her eyes and her previous night's dream began to unfold in her ever muddled mind. She remembered his hot breath oh her neck as she lifted her head enabling him to kiss it sweetly and admiringly at first; her gasps encouraging him to lick a line from her collar-bone up to her jaw. She remembered feeling no hesitation or uncertainty when their eyes eventually met, as she began to remember his hands wrapped around her waist pressing her against him. Images of his soft lips and toned chest flashed through her mind, as she recalled longing to feel his glowing skin making contact with hers. What felt so real was Narcisse brushing her flowing, brunette locks from the side of her face, all the while keeping his deep and lustful eyes on hers, then the sensation of his right hand travelling up her body. He kept to the groves in her torso and eventually employing his skilful hands on her breasts with the lightest of touch to further feed her frustration. Losing more control of her body by every moment that passed, her mouth opened slightly whilst she frowned as he grinned and gazed at her invitingly open mouth. He knew exactly what he was doing, just as he always did; Narcisse's skills in this regard were impeccable especially in terms of his powers over Lola and over other nobles at court, which she knew all too well. Lola remembered closing her eyes as his mouth travelled towards hers, but immediately the contact was impeded by the sudden realisation that she had fallen back to sleep and was now being woken by her laundry maid.
Lola jerked her head a little too quickly to look at where the sun rested in the sky and was embarrassed to see that she could no longer see its circular shape, meaning it had passed noon. Her cheeks were flushed and painted deep rouge which was unavoidably noticed by her maid, but Lola was far too shocked at her dream to realise or frankly care about her already tarnished reputation. 'Are you ready for your bath my lady?' Lola turned to acknowledge her and nodded but not mustering the strength to smile. The door closed and Lola swung her legs and pressed her feet on the beautifully ice-like floor to cool her body which was still tingling with heat, feeling her heart pounding, practically protruding out of her chest.

Lola walked into court having visited her sweet son; Jean-Philippe was the only pure and innocent aspect of her life, as well as the only family she now had. Over months of getting used to this idea, she realised she needn't feel alone; Jean-Philippe stole her heart from the moment he was handed to her and she would never allow him to be taken from her, by anyone. Lola stayed with him for several hours: playing and dressing him ready for him to sleep soothingly, which he soon did after Lola kissed him on the forehead and bid him goodnight. He had grown so much so quickly she thought as she watched him sleep with the greatest of ease. She envied him for that, but every time she looked at him her troubles seemed to dissipate and immediately every doubt or worry she had would just seem so insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
After leaving Jean-Philippe's room with great reluctance, she changed into one of her favourite dresses: it was emerald and velvet with a high neck but just allowing her collar-bones to peak above it elegantly. With her worries suppressed by the influence Jean-Philippe, she wanted to remain dominant and in control of her affairs, and she strode down the darkened corridors of French court with confidence, hoping to run into Condé.
It was that same corridor Narcisse had impulsively, yet gently, taken that kiss from her and she looked at each pillar with intrigue attempting to remember which she allowed him to hold her body against whilst he passionately kissed her lips. As she approached that very spot, she leaned forward to check it was indeed that spot when she heard him. 'Lady Lola.' Lola did not even need to look at his face to know of the grin he had fused across his face.
'Lord Narcisse.' She said with conviction, raising her jaw in defiance. He was stood about a metre or so away from her and Lola was determined in keeping that invisible wall of defence between them. He was wearing one of his many outfits which made him look so tall, broad and handsome; it was dark, with a beautiful pattern of gold embroidered onto it, but Lola remained strong and held his stare. She felt like she was staring directly into the sun, and her eyes narrowed from the heat. This however, worked to her advantage as it helped retain her anger, which she would not let turn into frustration…

'I was sorry to have not seen the flower on your dress last night. Don't tell me Condé actually voiced an opinion of interest.' He said cheekily, raising one eyebrow and turning his head sarcastically.
Lola grinned as she recognised his annoyance in not seeing the flower he had given her, despite the attention the stunning Princess Claude was giving him. Narcisse frowned slightly at this, for it was the first time he questioned exactly what she was thinking, and Lola knew this, delighting her immensely. 'Yes in fact. But admittedly nothing much of your interest any longer I am afraid. I fear your concern for such things has run its course.'
'Oh.' His back straightened, he was offended, and Lola relished in it. 'What "things" may I ask were so appealing to you which would fail to be so me? Surely you were not taken in by Condé's drab childhood, or was it yet another story of his sporting victories he forcing upon the conversation?'
'Not as such, although I found those quite impressive I must admit. No, instead we spoke of… games.'

'Games?'

'Games.'
For the first time Lola saw Narcisse without a single defence. His teeth gritted together in anger, and his sea-blue eyes showed he was hurt, but also that his mind was working. Lola however failed to see this in his eyes, she was far too preoccupied with her victory, she had control and that wall was as strong as ever. Suddenly though a small smile returned on his face, causing hers to fade. What was he up to?

'Ah. You saw.' Lola was already much smaller than him, her head just about reached his chin, but she felt no taller than an ant scurrying, scrambling around looking for protection against predators. But she would not let him win.

'Saw what?'

'Claude and I.' His smile growing, causing more attractive creases to appear around his mouth, 'Well I do apologise. If my… reacquaintance with Princess Claude forced you to retreat into the dull, cold company of Condé.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Well the only reason why you of all people would even consider Condé is if either you were forced, which we both knew you were' Lola looked down, she was thinking, but losing all the same. 'or you felt you equally felt forced, in order to level the score... in our game.' Why must he always turn her words against her? Why did he have to win all of the time? Lola looked up, infuriated by his words.

She took a step towards him, which shocked him as much as it did her, 'And why would in particular would I 'of all people' not consider Condé for any other reason? He's handsome, rich, powerful but honest and has integrity. He is more of a man than you could ever be, and so yes I will continue to spend my time with Condé because I will not be a chess piece in your game.'

Narcisse took a step towards her, just as infuriated as her, 'I have never treated you as property, Lola. I have never seen you that way, and nor will I.'

'So what was Claude? I was nothing but insurance to you last night, nothing more than a common girl you could have used and discarded if the main act proved inadequate.' Lola stopped, realising she was shouting.

Narcisse lifted his head but retained his gaze into her fiery eyes, 'So, you did consider my offer. Tell me, had you not seen me with Claude, would you have agreed?' Narcisse closed what little gap was between them, placed his hand on her waist and stroked her ribcage with his thumb, slowly.

Lola was almost engulfed by the intensity, like she was in her dream, but instead she lifted her jaw, and replied as calmly as she could, 'Not the point. As I said, it is no longer of your concern… or mine.' Their eyes stayed locked onto one another, his grip tightened around her waist causing her to gasp, and their faces were now so close their lips almost brushed. 'Yet, this feels oh so familiar.' His hand moved upward and began to cup her breast, just as before. His touch set every fibre of her being alight; sparks of adrenaline shot through her body, but she didn't want him to remove his hands… not yet. He began to grin again and as soon as she saw, she pushed his strong body away from hers but the heat didn't weaken between them, to her irritation.

Her knees were failing her and she felt light-headed, 'Condé will be waiting for me.' She lied; his eyes were resting on her lips, showing he knew and therefore did not care.

'Yes, as will I.' Lola couldn't hide that this thrilled her, and her eyes widened with hunger.

'But unlike Condé, you will be waiting a very, very long time.' She paced forward before he could say anything further. But this did not stop him shouting after her, 'But waiting, nonetheless.' She was glad he could not see her gratified smile walking down the corridor, for he would have taken far too much pleasure from it, more than she was willing to give… at this time.