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If Eliza were anyone else, a peasant girl or some minor noble's daughter, then escapades could be better tolerated. But she is the Queen's daughter, and her only heir. If one of her escapades into town to flirt with men ended badly, it wouldn't only hurt Eliza; it would also be damaging for the kingdom, and it is Captain Lillian Well's job to prevent that.
"I was just having a bit of fun, Lils." The princess gives her that sweet charming smile that she always uses to get out of trouble.
Not this time.
"The rest of you are dismissed," Wells says calmly to the other guards. "I will handle the princess' discipline."
The smile wavers as they leave but she doesn't actually look worried, up until Wells shoves her against the stone wall, hand pressing against her throat. "Lils, wait-"
"No," Wells says. "You had a chance to be good and yet you chose to misbehave like a child."
The garden grants them some privacy and she knows the guards won't come running back. Still, better to be quick.
With her free hand she grips the lacy front of the borrowed trousers Eliza acquired and yanks. The buttons and threads tear easily and her white underclothes are bare to her. Eliza's mouth gapes open in silent shock, looking like a fish abruptly dropped on land. She yelps when Wells presses her hand roughly against her most private area. She's never been touched like this before.
"Stop," she whimpers.
"Do you think one of the men you like to flirt with would be gentle?" Wells asks calmly. "You think they wouldn't just fuck you in a dark corner until their seed is dripping out of you, just for the pleasure of it or because they want a path to the throne?"
She brings her palm down hard on her cunt and Eliza shrieks. Then again and again. Until the poor girl is sobbing.
Sobbing and wet, Wells realizes. Turns out the girl likes a bit of pain. She shouldn't indulge, but maybe just this time.
Eliza is usually a spitfire, so vibrant and beautiful. But that's been tempered by the punishment, so she doesn't fight much when Wells slips a couple fingers into her wet cunt. Even her sobs are mere sniffles now. She shifts until she finds the pleasure spot and Eliza moans. Her eyes are wide in startlement; this kind of pleasure should have been saved for her wedding night. Wells doesn't stop until the princess has squeezed around her fingers with a pathetic whimper.
Eliza doesn't move from the wall as Wells withdraws and uses a handkerchief to clean her fingers. Briefly, she has the impulse to apologize. Wells pushes it down. Duty come first.
And if Eliza misbehaves again, then there are other punishments she can use. The Queen had already given her permission to discipline the girl, even if this probably wasn't quite what she had in mind.