Anyone under the age of 18, along with anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion, please do not read this story.
The people and events in this story are fictional and do not represent anyone or anything from real life.
This story was our entry in Lisa Teez’s February 2012 Classic Choice MC Forum Contest.
Synopsis: Two neighboring kingdoms hope to avoid war through an arranged marriage, but the potential newlyweds may have other plans.
Thy Kingdom Cum
By: Mudak and Chrystal Wynd
Chapter 1
Lord Fauntleroy heaved a deep sigh as he looked out over the moors that surrounded his castle. He pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders as a slight gust of wind whistled past his window. “Tell me the news of the day,” he said to his advisor.
“Sir,” responded Tobias, “All is essentially quiet over the land today. Our search for a sculptor to make the statue you desired in the center of Chrystal Plains is nearly complete, however we do have some concerns that the costs might be too great for our coffers.”
“Then let us levy a new tax to cover the costs.”
“Consider it done.”
“What else?”
“There are rumors that Darkwyndmoor is developing some new type of weapon, more dangerous than standard cannons or catapults, but they are just rumors and none of our network of underground spies has been able to corroborate the rumors. At present, I would maintain security on our borders at their current levels, but we might be well served to prepare to bolster our defenses on short notice.”
“Do we have the men to bolster as needed?”
“Yes. There is a surfeit of slaves available for our re-deployment as the need arises.”
“Darkwyndmoor is aligning itself with another of our enemies, is it?”
“Almost definitely not.”
“Excellent.”
There was a brief pause in the conversation.
“And what of my son?”
Tobias straightened up, stole a glance at his Lord, and gazed out the window over the rolling foothills. When he knew he could be quiet no longer, he said, “Henry continues his philandering ways, and the whores of Chrystal Plains are becoming increasingly difficult to silence. Notwithstanding scattered rumors and hearsay, it seems as though the news of his dalliances has not reached outside of your kingdom, however it’ s not unreasonable to think that it’s only a matter of time and we should make the necessary preparations.”
“Should we put him in the stockades?”
“It’s an option, sir, however if we do that, it could raise more questions than it solves problems.”
Lord Fauntleroy stole a glance at his advisor, who now stood directly to his right, before redirecting his gaze out the window at a falcon as it dove down towards the ground, presumably in pursuit of a mouse it had observed. He absentmindedly raised his hand and placed it on Tobias’s shoulder. “We must do something, my friend. Something. Only I’m not entirely sure what.”
Chapter 2
Henry Fauntleroy, crown prince of Chrystal Plains, opened one eye.
“Toby,” said Henry, fixing the one open eye upon his father’s advisor. “It’s the middle of the night. Do close the curtain and stop letting in all that infernal light, there’s a good man.”
Tobias looked down on Henry with what the prince suspected was a complete lack of sympathy.
“It is nearly noon, milord,” said Tobias, “and I’ve asked you before not to call me Toby. My name is Tobias.”
“Toby, you are so uptight,” said Henry, “that I worry you will accidentally back against the wall and the suction will hold you tight.”
“Milord is decidedly unfunny,” said Tobias, “and if he could be troubled to send away his playmates, perhaps we could address this morning’s business.”
“We have business?” said Henry. “You should have said so immediately, old stick. I would have had wine brought to the chambers.”
“I’m sure, milord,” said Tobias. “You have, after all, amazing foresight.”
Henry sat up and kicked off his covers. He wore no clothing. He leaned to his left and drew down the spread, revealing a thin redheaded woman in a similar state of undress. His hand cupped the plump roundness of her bottom.
“Wake up, love,” said Henry. “It’s time for you to go.”
The redhead stirred. “I don’t want to get up yet,” she said. “I’m going to be Queen. Queens can sleep as long as they want.”
The covers stirred on the other side of Henry and an equally naked blonde sat up. “No, you’re not,” she said. “I’m going to be Queen! Henry said so.”
Tobias looked at Henry without expression, then slowly turned to the blonde. “I believe your Majesty’s presence is required in the scullery,” he said.
“Toby!” said Henry. “Show some respect, my good man. Phoebe is no scullery wench. She’s a chambermaid.”
“Hey!” said the redhead. “I work in the scullery!”
“I know, Celia,” said Henry. “In your case, however, it’s a position entailing great respect.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” said Henry. “Now, off you go. I have work to do.”
Minutes later, the door closed behind the two exiting girls. Henry turned to the waiting Tobias.
“Now then, Toby,” said Henry. “What is so important that you have to get me up in the middle of the night to discuss it?”
“Simply this, milord,” said Tobias. “Your father Lord Fauntleroy has decreed that, two weeks from this day, you shall meet Lady Meredith Temnoveter of Darkwyndmoor, in anticipation of marrying her not long thereafter.”
“What?!” said Henry. “Toby, tell me you’re not serious!”
“I am quite serious,” said Tobias, “and please, allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials.”
Chapter 3
Meredith sat upright in her chair, gazing into the full-length mirror of her sitting room, her eyes occasionally looking towards the smiling face of the chambermaid brushing her long brown hair.
“I fear my father might wish to marry me off just to further his own political interests and won’t really take my feelings into consideration.”
Imogene stopped brushing the girl’s hair and scowled. “My dear,” she said with a slight lilt in her voice, “You are your father’s only daughter. Think of how your mother married your father…”
“Oh, I have, Genie! I have! Theirs was an arranged marriage that created this kingdom in the first place, but my mom was allowed to say no to him.”
“Was she now?”
“Yes, that’s what she told me just last week.”
Imogene placed her hand on the princess’s shoulder. “Milady, I remember when your mother met your father. I’m not saying she had the right to turn him away, but her parents were both there, as were his parents. That means that two very powerful men who wanted their kingdoms to come together to create the land of Darkwyndmoor that you know and love… Well, your mother was your age now. All those powerful people could be really intimidating. Yes, officially she could have said no but I don’t think she really could, not without fear of some drastic punishment. Maybe even death.”
“Well, that was dad, right? He’s a good guy, always was as far as I know. If he’d been a jerk or a cad, maybe death would’ve been better.”
Imogene laughed. “Most men who might qualify to be be your suitor were raised in this kind of atmosphere. Nobility, loyalty, honesty. Those are the traits of a prince.” The chambermaid proceeded with brushing Meredith’s hair.
“Yes, I know. But I just wish…”
“You wish what, milady? Do you trust your father or don’t you?”
“Yes! Of course I do, it’s just that… I don’t know. Father’s set his sights on Chrystal Plains. The hearsay about Prince Henry Fauntleroy is…well, from what I’ve heard, he doesn’t sound like he’d be the marrying kind himself. And he certainly doesn’t sound like he’d be able to provide me with the life that father gave the mother!”
Imogene walked around the chair to face Meredith. “Milady, that is but rumor and hearsay. You wouldst wish not to hear of the rumor and hearsay that accompanies your name. Or, for that matter, your father.”
“What kind of rumors are there about me?”
“Naught but an exaggeration of your chastity.”
“But I’m proud of being chaste! It’s why I hesitate so to marry! And what of Henry Fauntleroy?”
“Admiral Nahtoobee served with him in Lord Fauntleroy’s army. While it is true- if we can trust Admiral Nahtoobee- that Henry Fauntleroy appreciated those days when he had official leave of his duties, he was no different from any of his other comrades-in-arms. There were similar rumors about your father before he wed your mother.”
Meredith raised her hands to her ears. “I don’t need to hear this!”
“All your father asks is that you meet Henry Fauntleroy. We will be hosting a formal state dinner in a fortnight. If all goes well in that dinner, you shall be married soon thereafter and the kingdoms will endure a lasting peace.”
Chapter 4
Prince Henry Fauntleroy left his chambers in deep thought.
Of course, some might have considered “deep thought” somewhat of an understatement. In fact, they might have gone so far as to say “panic stricken. " Prince Henry would have perhaps debated this view, but in truth, he had to agree that his father’s ultimatum had perhaps caught him a tad bit unaware. So unaware, in fact, that the Prince failed to notice that he had missed the opportunity to pinch two rounded derrières that passed him in the hallway.
“My life is over,” said Henry, speaking to himself, “and I, so young. Surely this is an injustice!”
“Are you unwell, your grace?” said a voice.
Henry glanced at the speaker. “Ah, good morrow, Charles,” he said.
Admiral Charles Nahtoobee bowed his head momentarily. Then he spoke again.
“I asked if you are unwell,” said Nahtoobee. “You look as if you have been struck.”
Henry covered his eyes and moaned. “I have indeed been struck,” he said. “Struck by the cruel hand of fate!”
“I’m sorry to hear that, your grace,” said Nahtoobee, “but I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“My father, Charles,” said Henry. “It’s my father. He has decreed that, in two week’s time, I must…” Henry’s voice dropped into a whisper. “…get married!”
“No!” said the admiral. “Surely you jest, your grace! Although, should this news be true, it certainly explains your surliness.”
“I jest not,” said Henry, “and do not call me surly.”
“I meant no disrespect,” said Nahtoobee. “It’s just that the fall of such a renowned bachelor as yourself is a tale worthy of a bard. Tell me, sir, do you yet know which young lady is your betrothed?”
“I do,” said Henry. “I have been informed that it is the Lady Meredith of Darkwyndmoor.”
“Lady Meredith of Darkwyndmoor? I know of her. She is quite the beauty.”
“I briefly met Lady Meredith some time ago on an occasion of court,” said Henry, “and she was, indeed, quite the beauty. However, from what little I saw of her, I fear she is so conservative that she probably doesn’t even believe in the use of fire.”
“Are you sure, my grace?” asked Nahtoobee. “What gave you cause to believe this?”
“I have eyes, Charles,” said Henry, “and her formal manner suggests she’ll be dull company.”
“Perhaps you are being hasty,” said Nahtoobee.
“She is probably besot with religion,” said Henry. “A good fonging- even from her husband- will probably send her to her confessor in tears.”
“Well, we don’t know for sure…”
“A woman who spends so much time on her knees praying,” said Henry, “rarely allows her husband to part those knees. I will likely have to pry them apart with a bar.”
“You are distressed, your grace,” said Nahtoobee. “Surely she has some redeeming features you were unable to become acquainted with at the time.”
“Doubtful, my friend,” said Henry. “My present luck will likely not allow for it. And stop calling me surly.”
Chapter 5
The barmaid at The Spotted Hog had long since learned how to tune out the annoyances of the pub she tended. Between the drunken laughter from the clientele and the all-too-frequent attempts by one customer or another to seek to come home with her, she shrugged everything off. “Whatever it takes to get a good tip,” she would often say to those with whom honesty was a possibility.
Despite the “anything goes” attitude of the pub and its regular clientele, all of the noise and activity came to a sudden halt with the appearance of a mysterious stranger, wearing a long cloak, head completely covered and his face hidden in shadows. The stranger walked up to the bar, looking to the floor the entire way. It was only when he spoke, that the barmaid realized that this person was a man.
“I must speak with Mistress Hannah,” whispered the stranger.
The man’s request was punctuated by the sound of a dart thrown by one of the other patrons, missing the board completely. The dart wedged itself in the wooden wall near the board.
The barmaid scowled, trying to catch the eye of the mysterious stranger. “She doesn’t take visits from just anyone.”
“I’m prepared to pay handsomely just for the privilege of having an audience with her.” He tossed three gold coins on the bar, each of which made a clattering noise that was accentuated by the sudden and uncomfortable silence that had enveloped the bar since he first spoke.
The barmaid cleared her throat. “I’ll see if she can…”
A feeble-looking woman stepped out from behind a deep black curtain behind the bar. “Yes. I can see this gentleman. His arrival was foretold,” she wheezed as her walking stick struck the floor with a dull thud.
The stranger straightened up but said nothing.
Mistress Hannah held out a bony hand and gestured to the stranger to follow her into the chamber behind the bar.
“You are most gracious, Mistress Hannah,” he said as he passed through the curtain.
Once on the other side of the curtain, the stranger straightened up and, after looking back to ensure that no one had followed him, he adjusted his cloak and lowered his hood.
“Lord Fauntleroy,” the mystic said with a chuckle, “I anticipated your arrival this evening. I have my suspicions as to the reason for your visit, but the cards can occasionally be frustratingly vague. Tell me, then. What exactly is the problem with your son?”
“I can’t get him to take responsibility. I can foresee a lasting peace within the kingdom if he would marry into one of the neighboring families but he seems more interested in fooling around with the local whores. It’s embarrassing and I was hoping you might be able to straighten him out.”
The seer walked in circles around the regent, standing uncomfortably close to the man who, until now, had taken great pains to conceal his identity. She reached out a bony finger and ran it along the Lord’s cheek. A slight bit of blood remained at the tip of her fingernails.
She turned towards the fire that burned in a stone hearth in the corner of her room, picked up a greasy looking bag, reached into the bag, and tossed some of the contents into the fire, which flared up amid brightly colored sparks, sending the room into a surreal mixture of flickering lights and shadows.
Mistress Hannah stood before the fire for a long, uncomfortable time; the Lord was terrified to approach her. When he felt that he could not bear the wait any longer, he cleared his throat, but before he could say or do anything, she had turned back around to face him. “I will require a fair bit of gold to do this, your majesty.”
He stepped closer and retrieved a bag of gold from inside his cloak. He quickly shoved the bag into her hands and backed away. “There’s a thousand there. I trust this is sufficient.”
“Yes. Most sufficient. Return to me a week and you shall not be disappointed.”
“May I send one of my manservants?”
“You may.”
Lord Fauntleroy bowed low in thanks. He quickly covered his head and backed slowly out of the room.
Back in the bar, the din of the patrons who had taken to speculating who the stranger was and what he wanted, quickly lowered itself back to a near-silence.
Lord Fauntleroy nodded to the barmaid, whispering, “You have been most gracious. Best of luck to you,” before he walked out the door.
Mistress Hannah ran one of the gold coins between her fingers before poking her head out of the curtain, looking out over the bar. She turned to face the barmaid and said, “You can expect another guest tonight. You may collect whatever you might need to make up for any losses you have accumulated.”
“Another guest?” said the barmaid in incredulity. One visitor was more than Mistress Hannah received on any given night, but two? She was too intimidated to ask what the nature of these visits would be.
“Yes, and I suspect he, too, will wish to conceal his identity in public.”
Chapter 6
“I speak truly, my Lord Temnoveter,” said Admiral Nahtoobee. “Prince Henry fears marrying your daughter out of concern for her conservativeness. He is seeking a way to avoid the marriage.”
“This is distressing news you bring me, Lord Nahtoobee,” said Lord Temnoveter. “Yet, I must thank you for bringing this to my attention while there is still a chance to do something about it.”
“It is fortunate that Prince Henry is unaware of our long friendship,” said Nahtoobee, “else he might not have spoken as he did. Misfortunately, I am not sure this knowledge can help you.”
“There is still time,” said Temnoveter. “I do not think that the Prince will defy his father and refuse to wed Meredith. However, this marriage is far too important to the consolidation of my power to allow me to leave anything to chance. Moreover, I do not wish my daughter be unhappy in this union whilst forced to put up with Henry’s whoreson ways.”
“I do not understand, my Lord,” said Nahtoobee. “I should think the one would prevent the other.”
“Not necessarily,” said Temnoveter. “What if Meredith were to take on a bit of, shall we say, enthusiasm in performing her marital duties?”
“From what I have seen of your daughter, my Lord,” said Nahtoobee, “I would be disinclined to count on that. She is quite lovely and appears to be rather competent at court, but she is very proper in her behavior. To a fault, in fact, in this case.”
“True again, Admiral Nahtoobee,” said Temnoveter, “but too much rides on this marriage. I think I must take steps to ensure all goes smoothly. And I think I know just what step to make.”
Chapter 7
The barmaid at The Spotted Hog rolled her eyes at the hooded figure standing before her.
“Popular night for hooded tunics,” she said. “The weather, no doubt.”
“I seek Mistress Hannah,” said the figure.
“I’m sure you do,” said the barmaid, “but first, let me see the color of your money.”
There was a pause as the hood gazed at the barmaid impassively. Then the figure reached into a small pouch attached to his belt and pulled out two gold coins.
“Here is a down payment,” said the hooded figure, his gloved hand laying the coins on the bar. “I’ll match this amount after I’ve spoken to Mistress Hannah.”
The barmaid picked up one of the coins and bit it. Then she nodded. “All right,” she said. “Behind the black curtain.”
“Very well,” said the figure. “Thank you.”
“Just remember to see me before you leave,” said the barmaid.
“Of course.”
The barmaid watched the hooded figure disappear behind the black curtain. Then she shook her head and turned back to her customers.
“Good evening, Mistress Hannah.”
The mystic turned from the stone hearth in the corner of the room. “Feel free to reveal your face, Lord Temnoveter,” she said. “I am aware of your identity.”
“Clever,” said Temnoveter, drawing back his hood. “How did you know who I am?”
“You would hardly seek me out if I was unable to foresee a simple visit now, would you, Lord Temnoveter?” said Hannah. “Let us just accept that I possess certain abilities and then move to the point of your visit, my Lord.”
“Of course, Mistress Hannah,” said Temnoveter. “To business, then. As you are no doubt aware, I have a daughter.”
“Yes. The Lady Meredith.”
“Correct,” said Temnoveter. “Meredith is quite presentable and, more importantly, of a marriageable age.”
“Yes, I understand. Continue.”
“I have arranged such a marriage for Meredith,” said Temnoveter, “a marriage that, for political reasons, will be occurring very soon. Much sooner, in fact, than tradition dictates.”
“I do not officiate marriages, Lord Temnoveter.”
“Of course not, Mistress Hannah,” said Temnoveter. “I simply want to ensure that Meredith be an attentive wife.”
“You hardly require my services for that, Lord Temnoveter,” said Mistress Hannah, “and I’m sure you’ll get to the point quickly, as my patience grows short.”
“My apologies, Mistress Hannah,” said Temnoveter. “You are correct, of course. Specifically, I need to ensure that Meredith be an attentive, passionate wife…with an emphasis on the passion, if you understand my meaning.”
“Being the man of action you are, Lord Temnoveter,” said Mistress Hannah, “it is quite amusing watching you flounder so.”
“It is, after all, my daughter we are discussing,” said Temnoveter. “Be that as it may, however, I still require an answer. Can you or can you not provide the requested service?”
The frail-looking old woman’s face appeared thoughtful for a moment. Then she broke into a rasping fit.
Lord Temnoveter blinked in surprise. Then his eyes narrowed as he realized that Mistress Hannah was laughing.
“Does something about my problem amuse you, Mistress Hannah?” said Lord Temnoveter, his voice devoid of warmth.
“Not at all,” said Hannah, her scratchy laugh fading. “In fact, I believe I have your answer right here. But first, I must know…are you prepared to pay?”
Temnoveter jerked a pouch from his belt and dropped it on the table. Several coins spilled out. “I trust that answers your question,” he said. “Now, please answer mine.”
Hannah slid three bony fingers inside the pouch, then withdrew them. Then she slowly got to her feet and walked to a nearby shelf. Various beakers and potions of all sizes and colors covered the surface. Hannah selected one and then returned to the table. She sat down and then set the potion on the table in front of Lord Temnoveter.
“Yes, Lord Temnoveter,” said Hannah, finally breaking the silence. “I can provide that service.”
“With just this potion?”
“Yes, with just this potion,” said Hannah. “Give her the entire contents of this vial at least three days before she meets her betrothed.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, Lord Temnoveter, that’s it,” said Hannah. “Even you should have no difficulty with it.”
Temnoveter narrowed his eyes once again, but let the insult pass. “Can you guarantee success?”
“No, I cannot guarantee success,” said Hannah. “I can only guarantee the potion. Assuming you follow the directions, however, your daughter should become as hot-blooded a wife as any husband could hope for. A future re-dosing will be necessary, however, as the effects will not last forever.”
“I will worry about that when the time comes, Mistress Hannah,” said Lord Temnoveter, “as you are quite expensive.”
Hannah cackled. “I am indeed, Lord Temnoveter,” she said. “I am, however, worth it.”
Lord Temnoveter picked up the potion and gazed at it. “I hope so, Mistress Hannah,” he said. “I’m most definitely hope so.”
Chapter 8
Lord Temnoveter took the “long” way back to his castle. He rode his horse back to his hidden base for his armies. The sentry saw him coming and immediately drew open the battlements.
General Feuerstadt hastened to meet his commander. “Lord Temnoveter! What an unexpected surprise! To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”
Temnoveter furled his brow and looked directly into the eyes of the general.
Feuerstadt cleared his throat. “I, um… I assume you wish to see our progress?”
“Yes, please.”
The two men strode briskly to a small brick building in a dark, isolated corner of the base. The entrance to the building was flanked by eight men, each bearing a crossbow on his back. As the General and the Lord passed the guards, each stood upright and saluted.
“At ease, men,” the General said as he retrieved his keys from his belt. The guards lowered their hands from their foreheads as the General unlocked the door and strode into the building.
Feuerstadt retrieved a torch from the wall and held it above his head. “As you will soon see, Sir, we are making good progress in our research.”
“So I have heard. Please tell me how soon you think this device will be fully operational.”
“By my estimation, sir, it should be operational within a month.”
“That soon? Excellent. May I see a demonstration?”
“Most certainly.” The two men strode into a chamber. In the far corner of this room was what looked like a table with some pistons and a long hose protruding from one corner. The general gestured to his commander to join him next to the table.
“The concept is not new, sir. If one man turns this crank here, it will propel a flammable liquid through the table and send it spraying through this hose, thus throwing the flame wherever the hose is being pointed.”
“Interesting. Very interesting.”
“I must warn you: it is a two-person operation and the hose is difficult to control. Even if one man can control the hose, it still heats up quite quickly. Furthermore, the crank does not turn easily so you need an extremely strong man to operate the machine properly.”
“What still needs to be done before it is ready?”
“Two things, my lord. First, we need to put wheels on it so that it can be transported, and second, we are still seeking to find an appropriate thickness in gloves that enables the wearer to grip the hose tightly enough, whilst not burning his hands.”
“And you are close on both?”
“Yes, sir. We have developed a pair of gloves that can hold the hose for approximately three minutes without discomfort.”
“Would you care to demonstrate?”
The general hesitated before regaining his composure. “Yes, I suppose so. I would recommend that you hold the hose, sir.” He quickly retrieved a pair of gloves from the wall and handed them to Lord Temnoveter.
While the commander pulled on the gloves, the general found a piece of wood and stood it against the wall opposite the flamethrower. The general handed the hose to his superior, helping to adjust the gloves. “Now, aim the hose this way.”
Lord Temnoveter gripped the hose tightly, bending his knees as he aimed the hose at the board.
“I’m going to turn the crank for no more than a minute. That will be enough for you to see how efficiently it works,” said the general. He spit on his hands, grabbed the crank, and began to turn it slowly in a counter clockwise direction. He punctuated each turn with an involuntary grunt.
Temnoveter took a deep breath, anticipating the warmth to flow through his hands. The fire did not come immediately and he cleared his throat. “How long before the fire will start to come out?”
Feuerstadt spoke between grunts. “Just … a few more … turns … Sir!”
No sooner had Feuerstadt spoken the word “sir”, than the hose began to vibrate. After two more turns of the crank, a spurt of flame came out of the tip of the hose.
Temnoveter jumped back, almost dropping the hose. He quickly regained his composure as he watched the board catch fire.
Feuerstadt stopped turning the crank and. After five more seconds, the flames stopped as well. Both men stepped closer to the blackened piece of wood and examined it.
“Impressive,” said Temnoveter as he took the gloves off and handed them to his general.
“Did you feel the flame through the gloves?”
“Yes, but it didn’t feel hot enough to burn that wood like that.”
“I suspect we’ve pretty much perfected the gloves. We have a few more materials to try out but we’re in a good place, sir.”
“Excellent.”
The two men left the testing chamber. As General Feuerstadt led Lord Temnoveter back towards the main entrance of the top-secret room, Lord Temnoveter remarked, “May we never have to use a weapon as destructive as this.”
“I agree, sir.”
“But we will merge with Chrystal Plains one way or another. My daughter shall make the acquaintance of Henry Fauntleroy next week. The peaceful merger of the two kingdoms would occur with their wedding. If they do not wed, though, I should think that Lord Fauntleroy might wish to reinforce his own battlements. He need not know that, though.”
The two men laughed heartily as Lord Temnoveter ran his hands over the small bottle of the potion attached to his belt. He wondered if this potion would work as well as Mistress Hannah claimed it would. Time would tell, of course. Time would tell.
Chapter 9
Tobias heaved a deep sigh as he looked up at the sign, indicating he had arrived at his destination. The Spotted Hog. With any luck, he’d be able to get in and out quickly. He normally enjoyed putting his finger on the pulse of the populace, ensuring that Lord Fauntleroy wasn’t regarded too poorly among the people of Chrystal Plains. But the drunken revelry that often accompanied establishments such as this one made him appreciate his nobility.
He pushed the door open and winced as he felt his shoes stick to the grime on the floor. There was a fair number of customers- if you could call them that- talking, drinking, playing darts, and generally being rowdy. Thankfully, no one looked up to see or otherwise question his arrival.
The barmaid was cleaning beer steins as he approached the bar. When she didn’t look up, he said, “Excuse me.”
After still no response, he cleared his throat.
“Yeah?” The barmaid eyed Tobias suspiciously.
“I’ve come to retrieve a gift from Mistress Hannah for…”
“She said someone like you would show up. What’s it worth to you?” The barmaid sounded bored with this conversation.
Tobias grumbled about his lack of surprise at the fact the barmaid expected a bribe, resenting it all the same. He reached into his pocket and threw two silver pieces on the bar.
The barmaid picked up the money, scowled, rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak. The serious look on Tobias’s face was enough to make her realize she ought not press her luck.
She turned her back on Lord Fauntleroy’s advisor, walked behind the black velvet curtain, and returned a few minutes later with a large package wrapped in leather. “Mistress Hannah says the instructions for the medallion are inside.”
Tobias retrieved the package from the bar, gave a slight smile to the barmaid, and turned on his heel as he left the pub. He thought he heard the barmaid sighing as he walked away.
Despite his curiosity, his instructions had been to retrieve the package and bring it back to Lord Fauntleroy. If the contents of the package had any impact on his life, he would learn what it was soon enough.
Chapter 10
Lord Temnoveter settled into his chair. It was time.
“Imogene,” he said, speaking to his daughter’s lady-in-waiting. “Please ask Lady Meredith to join me here in my study.”
“Of course, my lord,” said Imogene, affecting a deep curtsy. “At once.”
Temnoveter waited until Imogene left the study. He then removed two deep chalices from a nearby shelf and set them on his desk. From a drawer, he produced the potion given to him by Mistress Hannah. He poured the contents of the potion into one of the chalices and then put the empty glass beaker back into the drawer. In the other chalice, he poured a wine that matched the color of the potion almost perfectly. Finally, he added a small amount of wine to the potion-filled chalice.
His preparations were complete. All he could do now was wait.
A short time later, Meredith entered the study. Imogene appeared at the door, but went no further as Temnoveter held up his hand.
“Thank you for your service, Imogene,” said Temnoveter. “Leave us now.”
Imogene curtsied and left as Meredith approached her father.
Temnoveter nodded a greeting. “Good evening, daughter,” he said. “You look well.”
Meredith bowed her head in a respectful manner. “Thank you, father,” she said, “and you as well.”
“I hope I did not disturb you,” said Temnoveter. “The feast for Prince Henry Fauntleroy is but three days away and I know you and your mother are spending the full of each day preparing.”
“Yes, father,” said Meredith. “With respect, your arrangements left little time for preparation. Thus far, all goes well; it does, however, feel as if I am needed to be everywhere at once.”
“Apologies then, daughter, for this interruption,” said Temnoveter. “I will not keep you long.”
“It is no bother, father,” said Meredith. “I am ever your obedient daughter.”
“That is precisely the reason I have summoned you, daughter,” said Temnoveter, sliding the potioned chalice to Meredith. “Your dedication to duty speaks well of you. I know you did not request or even wish this. This union, however, will serve Darkwyndmoor well.”
“Of course, father,” said Meredith. “I live to serve.”
“I’m sure you do,” said Temnoveter, “and I hope your dedication to duty extends to pleasing your future husband as well.”
“Of course, father,” said Meredith, after only the briefest of pauses. “I will be a most dutiful wife.”
The hesitation had been only momentary, but it was all that was required to confirm Temnoveter’s course of action. It was time.
“In that case, daughter,” said Temnoveter, raising his chalice, “please join me in a toast to duty.”
“A toast, father?” said Meredith.
“Say, rather, a toast to yourself,” said Temnoveter. “I will have scant chance to see you alone before the feast, so I am taking this opportunity to celebrate with you.”
“I see,” said Meredith.
“In other words, daughter,” said Temnoveter, “it is your duty to drink a toast with me.”
“Oh!” said Meredith, lifting her chalice. “Please forgive my momentary confusion, father.”
“It is of no moment, daughter,” said Temnoveter, again raising his chalice. “And now, I say to you that I raise my glass with pride. Pride! No father could be prouder of his son than I am of you, daughter. Your service to family and state is an example all should strive to emulate. And I wish you great happiness in your upcoming union.”
“Thank you, father,” said Meredith. “I shall, of course, be a dutiful wife.”
Temnoveter drained his chalice and set it on his desk. After several swallows, Meredith had emptied her chalice as well.
Seeing Meredith’s empty chalice, Temnoveter smiled. He rose from his chair and approached his daughter. Then he embraced her.
“I hope you find great passion, my daughter,” he said.
“I shall be a dutiful wife,” said Meredith.
Chapter 11
Tobias returned to the castle of Chrystal Plains and found Lord Fauntleroy in the throne room. He bowed down low before his master as he approached. “My liege.”
“Welcome back, my friend. I trust your journey was safe and unmarred by disturbances.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, my lord.”
“And the package…”
Tobias reached inside of his traveling cloak and retrieved the package, still unopened. Lord Fauntleroy held both of his hands out, and Tobias placed it, flat, on the Lord’s palms.
“It feels heavier than I would anticipate for its size,” remarked Lord Fauntleroy as he slowly began to unwrap the package. “Did Mistress Hannah have any additional words of advice?”
“Only that the instructions for its use are inside.”
“What instructions? What’re you two talking about?” Henry entered the throne room, followed closely by Admiral Nahtoobee. “Toby, my main man! What’d you just give my dad?”
“Master Henry,” said Tobias, struggling to retain his composure. “This does not matter to you and I suggest you…”
“Actually, Tobias,” said Lord Fauntleroy, “This does concern him. He is directly affected by this, and I had advised Admiral Nahtoobee to keep watch and bring Henry here straight away upon your return to the castle.”
“My humblest apologies, my lord.”
The ruler then turned to face his son and scowled. “That said, young Henry, it’s high time you started showing respect to Tobias here. If you are to be wed to the Lady Meredith—“
“But father!” Henry started to whine, but his words were cut off when his father raised his hand.
“Enough. As I was saying, if you are to be wed to the Lady Meredith Temnoveter, then you must begin acting like the royalty you know you are.”
“What if I don’t want to marry her?”
“You WILL marry her and that’s all I have to say about that. Now about this package. It is a gift that I hope will allow you and Meredith to recognize your shared goals, interests, and dreams.” Lord Fauntleroy finished opening the package and lifted the contents of the package upright to just below his eye-level.
The package contained an embossed medallion, just smaller in size than Lord Fauntleroy’s two outstretched hands. The outer circle was the color of bronze, with detailed inscriptions written in an unknown language. Embedded within the bronze circle was a pink-colored gem that shone brightly, even in the dim light of the throne room. The gem only appeared on one side of the medallion.
The inner circle of the medallion shone like freshly polished gold. It had no words inscribed in it, but was apparently on a hinge as the inner circle could spin around on a vertical axis within the outer circle. On one side of the inner circle was a detailed engraving of a tiger in a position that looked like it was ready to pounce on its prey. On the other side was clearly a woman, sitting very proper at a table as she drank from a teacup, her little finger outstretched.
“It’s very … attractive,” said Admiral Nahtoobee hesitantly.
Lord Fauntleroy placed the medallion on his lap, and his son reached for it. The father held his hands up. “I shall give this to you once we understand the instructions.”
Henry backed away.
Lord Fauntleroy unfolded the piece of parchment that had accompanied the medallion itself. He cleared his throat and squinted at the shaky handwriting on the parchment before reading aloud. “The center piece of this medallion represents the two sides of your intended. When you and your intended are within thirty yards of one another, merely place one finger on the gem and another on the center of the medallion to bring forth the side you have chosen.”
The four men looked at each other. Lord Fauntleroy lifted the medallion up again and spun the center around, watching the golden piece catch the light. Henry looked back and forth between Tobias and Admiral Nahtoobee before stepping forward and, without saying a word, taking the mysterious gift from his father.
Chapter 12
Although not as large an affair as the potential wedding, the dinner was an event in itself. After all, besides setting the stage for the all-important initial meeting between Henry and Meredith, it also served as a state dinner of sorts between Chrystal Plains and Darkwyndmoor, and Lord Temnoveter was determined that in no way would he be embarrassed in front of Lord Fauntleroy.
Thus, a wide array of exotic foods had been delivered to the kitchens, along with messages of varying severity from Lord Temnoveter suggesting that anything less than a royal feast would result in stern discipline for the kitchen staff…at least for the survivors. Musicians were enlisted and positioned strategically around the chamber. Great care was taken to establish an intimate setting. Although this meal was accorded a lesser status as opposed to the wedding, several days preparation had gone into it and it showed.
Despite the importance Lord Temnoveter had placed on the meal preparations, he knew the actual success of the evening hinged on the meeting between Henry and Meredith. Unfortunately, he was no more sure of the outcome now than when he had obtained the potion from Mistress Hannah. He was sure he had administered the potion exactly as directed, but as of yet, there were no visible results. Meredith appeared to still maintain her severe approach to court interactions. Still, there was a chance that there would be no effect until she met Henry. At least, Temnoveter hoped this to be the case.
It was with this in mind that he approached the Chrystal Plains dignitaries.
“Greetings, my lords,” he said, “and welcome to Castle Temnoveter.”
Despite his often flippant disregard of propriety, Henry was no stranger to ceremony and he conducted himself appropriately as his father exchanged official pleasantries and then presented him to Lord Temnoveter. Upon introduction, he offered a fluid and surprisingly regal bow.
“Salutations, Lord Temnoveter,” he said. “Your hospitality honors us.”
“Thank you, Lord Henry,” said Temnoveter. “But now, may I present to you Meredith, my daughter and flower of the Darkwyndmoor.”
It was time. Henry stepped forward and took the offered hand from Meredith. He brought her fingers to his lips and gently kissed the knuckles.
“Good evening to you, Lady Meredith,” said Henry, still holding her hand. “I have received descriptions of you, of course, but they failed to convey your beauty.”
“I thank you, my lord,” said Meredith. “This courtesy speaks well of you. Your reputation had suggested one less refined than the actual article.”
Completely proper, but with little warmth. Henry realized that Meredith would follow the letter of her father’s dictates, likely without true passion. It was time to put his ownfather’s preparations to the test.
Still holding Meredith’s fingers in his, Henry surreptitiously grasped his medallion in his other hand. Then he again raised her fingers to his lips.
Meredith gasped.
Meredith had prepared for the evening with her usual attention to detail. Trained from childhood on how to conduct herself with visiting dignitaries, state functions did not make her nervous. However, for some reason this one felt different.
Granted, she was meeting her future husband. But even that aside, something was off.
For one, she had been having alternating hot and cold flashes for three days now. It wasn’t impossible, of course, that she had a virus of some sort, but she did not feel that this was the case. The hot flashes were not so much feverish, but rather of a…more personal nature.
And then her dresses no longer fit correctly. This was quite a surprise, as she had done nothing different in a manner that would bring about such a change. She had tried on several dresses and the result had been the same for each: too tight in the bosom and too loose at the waist. She was even prepared to swear her hips had widened.
So, in desperation, she immediately summoned her best seamstress, who used a length of knotted cord to confirm Meredith suspicions. Meredith breasts had indeed grown, her waist had shrunk and her hips had widened.
In a pinch, Meredith could have worked around the shrunken waist and widened hips. However, a swelling bosom could not be tastefully concealed in a gown too small. So she put the seamstress to work.
The seamstress had done a wonderful job. Unfortunately, now that Meredith was actually at the dinner, she realized that her bosom had apparently swelled even more during the intervening three days and her breasts were bulging slightly in the too-tight material. Making matters worse, the more intimate parts of her breasts were more sensitive than usual.
And now, of all times, with Lord Henry’s lips pressed to her fingers, she was having the most intense hot flash yet.
She inadvertently gasped as her blood suddenly ran hot. The sensations were intense, and Meredith pressed her knees together in a desperate attempt to control her heat. Several heartbeats passed.
“Are you unwell, my lady? " said Henry.
Meredith realized Henry, still holding her hand, had taken a step closer. He was close enough now that she could smell him. It was a strong, masculine scent, and it made her belly muscles jump and twitch.
She pressed even closer to Henry and lay a hand on his chest. “I am fine, Lord Henry,” she breathed, “and I look forward to dining with you this evening.”
Although he remained debonair on the surface, Henry exulted on the inside. By the Plains, this woman was sensitive to the medallion in a way that exceeded his hopes! In fact, Henry realized he had to address the immediate situation, inasmuch as Lady Meredith appeared ready to strip off and service him in front of their fathers, the guards and the castle kitchen staff.
“I look forward to dinner as well, my lady,” said Henry. “Shall we commence?”
As Henry spoke, he again adjusted the medallion.
Meredith opened her mouth to reply, then blinked and took a step back. Her cheeks were flushed, but her voice even as she said, “Of course, Lord Henry. Please, this way.” She turned and approached the dining table, her regal bearing apparent.
Henry smiled, and even Lord Fauntleroy allowed himself a pleasant expression.
“Well, Toby, old bean,” said Henry, “let’s eat some dinner, shall we?”
Once seated at the dinner table, Meredith felt much more in her element and she relaxed. In fact, she excelled, for dining etiquette was an obvious strong suit of hers. She ate little dinner, as her restrictive clothing allowed her little room for digestion. She did, however, sip a cup of wine.
“So tell me, Lord Henry,” said Meredith, holding her cup properly as etiquette demanded. “Do you feel our potential union would strengthen the ties between Chrystal Plains and Darkwyndmoor?”
“Indeed, I do, my lady,” said Henry, his fingers unobtrusively sliding around his medallion. “I think we would serve as a symbol to the peoples of these states. They would be able to come together as one, working together with breathless intensity and no doubt achieving a climax of achievement.”
The obvious double entendre of Henry’s words had to be obvious to all, as Meredith felt each stressed syllable burning in her blood. Grasping her chalice in a surprisingly unladylike manner, Meredith poured a goodly amount of wine into her mouth, swallowed and then gave Henry a challenging look.
“Undoubtably you are right, Lord Henry,” said Meredith, allowing the tiniest drop of wine to slide untended from the corner of her mouth and down her chin. “I’m sure even the farmers would be moved by our union and would think of us as they drove their long, hard plows into the soft, warm burrows of their fields.”
There was stunned silence at the table. Then Henry replied, “I think you speak truly, my lady,” he said. “We would have to set an example for them. Perhaps some more than others. After all, sometimes it is difficult to plow certain fields.”
“That is true, Lord Henry,” said Meredith. “Of course, I’m sure it is easier if you have a big enough plow. I’m sure a large enough plow would be able to till even the most difficult field.”
Tobias muttered to himself. Henry chuckled, then released his medallion.
Meredith blinked, then set down her chalice. She picked up a napkin and gently pressed it to her chin. “Please do excuse my messiness, my lords,” she said. “I don’t quite feel myself this evening, I’m afraid.”
“Feel again, my lady,” said Henry. “It gets better.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, my lord Henry,” said Meredith, cheeks coloring.
Henry grabbed his medallion once more. “Are you sure, lady Meredith?”
Her suspicions about Henry’s medallion confirmed, Meredith purred as her nipples hardened. “Perhaps you could explain it to me, Lord Henry,” she said, “in private?”
Prince Henry Fauntleroy stood. “Lady Meredith, I would be honored to do so,” he said, “at length.”
Meredith stood as well. “Length is exactly what I’m hoping for, Lord Henry.”
Lord Temnoveter dismissed the serving staff, then stood. Lord Fauntleroy, Tobias and the others rose as well.
Temnoveter glanced at Fauntleroy. “Well, my lord, I see no reason to detain the young people at the dinner table any longer,” he said. “If you have no objections, I think perhaps we should give them some time to acquaint themselves.”
“I agree with you, my Lord Temnoveter,” said Fauntleroy. To Henry and Meredith, he said, “Let us conclude here and then you two go off and let the two old men hash out some business details.”
“My thanks, Father,” said Henry, “and to you as well, my Lord Temnoveter.”
Lady Meredith did not appear to hear. Her eyes were fixed firmly on Henry, or at least what appeared to be Henry’s belt buckle.
Epilogue
“Well, Lord Fauntleroy… Since it seems our children will be merging our kingdoms, would you like to see the new weapon my men have been developing? I believe it will serve to defend our unified land better than anything you’ve ever seen before.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I call it a ‘flamethrower’. The concept is not new, as the ancient Chinese developed a similar device. What I have, however, is a vast improvement on their original design.”
“Oooh. Sounds fascinating. We shall allow our wives to plan the wedding itself, but I do have one question for my son before we look at your weapon.”
Henry raised his head when he heard his father mention that he had a question for his son. “Yes, father?”
Meredith giggled.
“I have a question for you. Who would you like to officiate at your wedding? Admiral Nahtoobee, or Tobias? Both are empowered to officiate.”
“Hmmmm. Toby or Nahtoobee. That is the question. What do you think, Meredith?” He quickly spun the amulet around, making her a lady again.
Meredith immediately stopped giggling. “Um… Can we go with Admiral Nahtoobee?”
“You heard the lady, father!”
“Yes. Yes I did.” Lord Fauntleroy turned to face Lord Temnoveter. “Shall we, then?”
“My carriage is about to arrive. Let’s wait for it outside and leave our children alone.”
The two men walked out of the banquet hall.
“I really enjoyed meeting you tonight, Meredith,” said Henry with a smile.
“Yes. I had a good time tonight, too.”
“And now that we’re alone, I figured that we can have even more fun.” He displayed the amulet to her. “So which do you want to be? The lady…” He spun the centerpiece of the medallion. “Or the tiger?”
She stood up straight as she lowered her gown over her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor, revealing her nude body, her pussy glistening with moisture. Winking at him, she said, teasingly, “Roar!”
“That’s just what I thought,” said Henry as he looked back at the entrance into the room, reassuring himself that no one would return through it. He took off his clothes, kissed Meredith and pinched her nipples as she jumped up on the empty table, spreading her legs before him.
As he climbed on top of her, she moaned, “O Henry…”