As with all affairs that involve a preliminary experience, the first kiss is infamous for playing the role of the gateway when leading one into the marvelous garden that is known to many as love. And so it was no exception to Queen Duanne, the honored royalty whose search for the elusive path to that delightful paradise will be witnessed by us.
Pressured into matrimony with another carrying the gift of royal lineage and prowess those many years ago, Queen Duanne felt strangely unfulfilled by such a milestone. It was true, all of her family rejoiced at the seemed resolution to her woes of solitude and the reassurance of being guaranteed a heir at last; she had felt indifferent toward her then-newlywed spouse, and many a night had passed with unfruitful introspection. Outsiders and friends of the royal family thought it odd that she did not appear to be at all actively appreciative of the fortunate circumstances of which she was a part, and these gossips troubled her and her empty marriage.
She weaved idly in her bower to hasten the monotonous pace of time, burdened by these everpresent unresolvations. Preoccupied with these rote tasks and yet also unfathomably plagued with ennui, she often caught herself examining other things in the meantime. It is to be noted that from the polished glass of the windows she could look into the neighboring flats and observe the people within, slaving away at their usual bourgeois matters. On this particular day there walked a fair dame rearranging the items of her own bower, and she had caught the eye of Queen Duanne.
It was not a glance of the usual admiration that girls often platonically bestow on each other, but an inexplicable fascination with her presence. The Queen had been staring at her for quite some time, and was startled when the woman had looked up and noticed the Queen's apparent interest. Queen Duanne felt suddenly awkward and stricken with an exciting panic, and dared herself to look back at the woman.
The woman was smiling, leaning over her ornately carved chair to display a glimpse of plump cleavage, which made the Queen turn red at once, pretending to herself that she was repulsed by her risqué behavior. Ashamed at having staked the possibility of kindling ever more rumors, the Queen promptly rose to pursue other matters that needed attending to.
All throughout the day, the sight of the mysterious woman of the window lingered on the Queen's mind. Unlike the problems that Queen Duanne was accustomed to entertaining, these new thoughts were pleasant. Surely she could not have enjoyed the interaction? She most certainly could not have been one of those women who pursued fleeting insubstantial affairs of trifling romance with other women, or so she had thought.
The Queen always fancied a stroll by night outside the palace walls to quell her restless thoughts. On that particular night, Queen Duanne was surprised to have discovered the woman similarly milling about on the cobblestoned roads, left deserted in the wake of midnight. Still shaken by the odd afternoon encounter, the Queen tried to avoid such sin-mongering mischief, but was drawn to the novelty of the woman's feminine nature. The Queen fixed her gaze upon the woman, who did so in return; establishing an unspoken communication, they retreated to an alcove. It was the woman who made the first move, holding the Queen by her waist and gracing her lips with one of those occasions of facial contact that is hard to come by. The Queen's skin was flushed, and, quite unsure of what to make of this newfound thrill, she wrapped her thin arms around the woman's shoulders in return, and if you had seen them, you would've thought that they were two cherubs descended from the goodness above to infuse the chilled air with the fire of attraction. The Queen knew at once what she was missing in her marriage, and the woman knew at once why the Queen rejoiced in her arms.