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I had laboured over this project for weeks, scrapping design after design. Acquiring the finest materials from France and the Far East had been costly, but my patron was paying me well. She insisted on meeting frequently to approve my sketches, the colours, the style. I was surprised when my first designs were not risque enough for her. More so when she insisted that I take her measurements while she was nude. So that the garments would "fit close to my skin" she had said.
And now here I stood, waiting in her bedchamber while she tried on my creation in her dressing room. I didn't expect her to step out, smiling widely, wearing only her new undergarment. The thin straps threatened to slide off of her shoulders at any moment. The neckline plunged in a way that would make any gentleman blush. The red silk shimmering as she moved toward me.
"I must reward you for your brilliance," she said, eyes fixed on mine as she approached.
"I assure you, you have paid me quite well y-mmph." My weak protest was cut off when she pressed her lips to mine, silencing me. Her arms went around my neck and when she released my lips she rested her cheek on my shoulder.
"This has to be our little secret," she whispered conspiratorially. Her lips close enough to my ear that I could feel her breath.
"Yes, your Highness," I replied nervously, not needing to be reminded of the consequences I might suffer if someone found out.
"Please," she smiled, "call me Victoria."
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