The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Like most things, the echo of hooves died quickly out on the Hawk’s Road. Engineers had somehow suspended the cobbled path along the ridge. On one side, a declivity fell hundreds of feet down to the sea. On the other rested a barren chasm, dark with volcanic glass. Duke Fortinbras Tullius scowled down at the sea from the window of his carriage. He had been a duke for only three days, his father having officially disappeared on Monday. And here he was, already summoned by the two queens regent. He looked up to see Accipiter Cubitum’s twisting spires towering above him. The palace seemed to perch on the cliff like a hawk’s nest. From their spot on the winding road, Fortinbras could see the newest tower rise above all others. Still under construction, its iridescence corkscrewed into a passing cloud. The Blessed Tower they called it. Fortinbras shivered. It didn’t seem so blessed to him. “Does it frighten you, Potitus? The palace, I mean.”

The valet looked over at his hulking master. Young Fortinbras, just past his twenty-fifth year, was larger than any man Potitus had met, standing nearly six and a half feet. The duke also had fair skin. His father’s family had blood from north of the Inland Sea. But there was also gossip that his ancestors had consorted with giants. But Potitus preferred to think best of his master. “I accompanied your father many times to see the queens regent. They are most … accommodating, Your Grace.”

“Yes, of course they are.” Fortinbras nodded and continued to look out at the lapping waves far below. He thought of the gift he carried from his ancestors between his legs. He had nothing to fear. The queens regent were women, and Fortinbras has always had a way with women. He smiled at the thought of showing those twin rulers his mighty cock. He imagined the look on their faces as roles reversed and they swore oaths to his service while gagging on his cum. He closed his eyes, forgetting his cramped surroundings, the suspended road, and his missing father. He ran through his plan again. Find the Maiden Lucia and begin with her. He could do that. He would do that.

“Well, that went well.” Fortinbras walked swiftly down the marble corridor away from the throne room. He paid little heed to the great animals posed in various states of aggression on either side of the red, running carpet. He shivered despite his heavy, formal cloak with its fur lining. The throne room had been beset by a singular chill. Not pleasant at all. Duke Fortinbras was used to the more pleasant things in life. “A simple meet and greet. They only asked of me my sworn loyalty and the sublimation of my lands. A trifle.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Potitus scurried after his duke. The young man had such long strides it was difficult to keep up. “Are we going home now?”

“I think not.” Fortinbras looked around. He was pleased the queens hadn’t thought to give him an escort. “You know of my charge, Potitus?”

“I do not, Your Grace.” Potitus frowned. The sooner they left that dark place the better for him. But of course, he kept such feelings to himself. “What is your charge?”

“I must find the Maiden Lucia.”

“I would think the atrium would be a place to start the search.” Potitus was starting to huff and puff as his short legs worked to keep up with the duke.

“Excellent.” Fortinbras turned left at a junction, passing an angry looking scimitar-toothed cat. Fortinbras started when he looked down to see the lifeless, snarling thing, and then strode on. “Is it this way, then?”

“Actually, Lord Fortinbras, it is this way.” Potitus stood by the spotted cat, watching its cold, dead eyes closely. He gestured in the opposite direction. “It’s this way.”

“Oh, excellent.” Fortinbras turned, his long cloak twirling around him, and walked toward the atrium. He almost ventured a cheerful whistle, but looked around and thought better of it.

What would the new duke want with her? Lucia followed the towering man, his valet at her heels. Those from the lands that surround the Inland Sea were not tall, with olive skin, and dark hair. But as she looked up at the back of his silver blond hair, Lucia thought how foreign this man’s complexation was. His eerie blue eyes had given her something of a fright when he’d fetched her from her tasks amongst the fruit trees.

“You know the princess well?” Fortinbras had the most offhanded tone, simply making small talk with one of the lesser classes. He didn’t bother to look back at her.

“I am her maiden, Your Grace.” Lucia looked down at her muddy gardening stola and wondered again, what such a man could want with her.

“Here we are, Your Grace.” Potitus stopped and pointed to a wooden door. “This is the room you asked for.”

“Very good, Potitus.” Fortinbras stopped, reached a great hand out, and opened the door with a long creak. “Please enter, maiden. We have much to discuss.” He ushered her in, admiring her wide hips and ripe ass. “Potitus, wait here for me. Make sure our conversation is uninterrupted.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” Potitus bowed low and watched his master stoop under the door lintel and disappear from sight.

“Does the princess treat you fairly?” Fortinbras gazed about the room. It had been set for display, with an impressive suit of dragon-mail worn by a mannequin in a martial pose. The warrior, no doubt, was set to fight off the mighty rays out at sea. But such creatures were now nothing more than sentences in dusty old history books. Or perhaps fables. “Do the queens give you their approbation?”

“Well … I … I …” Lucia stammered as she studied his face so high above hers. He was handsome, but in a cold way. As if he’d been cut from glass. “I rarely see the queens. And Princess Minicia and I are quite close. We both have eighteen years and I’ve been her maiden for …” Lucia blushed. She could tell from his expression that she’d talked too intimately about the princess.

“You will do nicely.” Fortinbras removed his cloak and slung it over the dragon-mail. “Has anyone ever told you that your beauty rivals the moon, and that your eyes sparkle as do the stars?”

“No, Your Grace.” Her blush deepened. She thought of the stablehand that often flirted with her. He might think such things, but he’d never said them to her. Of course, he had stolen from her a few kisses here and there, which had much amused the other maidens and the princess. “May I ask, what is it you require of me?”

“I require nothing. But I ask all that you have to give.” Fortinbras removed his white robes to reveal his tunic underneath. He was already quite hard, and was well aware of the effect his cock had on a woman as it pushed on his tunic.

“Oh, my gods.” Lucia’s hand went to her mouth. Could his viper be that large? Her cheeks were now so hot she thought they’d explode. “Your Grace? I don’t … um … understand.” She rubbed her legs together and her stomach turned over and over like a winged bird. No man had ever made her feel this way. “Wait, you mustn’t.” She turned her head as he removed his tunic, but her wide, brown eyes kept sight of him in the periphery. He was muscled and chiseled, everything over-large and out of proportion. Most of all his mammoth of a cock that sprung forth from his loins like an angry devil, with a dark blue head and great, terrible veins.

“Will a maiden tell a duke what he must do?” Fortinbras laughed and stepped toward her. His penis swayed before him. With each step, droplets of precum fell to the floor.

“I am in the queens’ service. It is my duty to—” She cut short when the great bluish head nudged her shoulder. He was so tall that had she been of mind, she could have taken him into her mouth while standing up. A great hand took hold of her brown hair, and her face was lowered to that wide blue-helmeted cock. Apparently, the duke was of mind. She really should put up a fight for her princess and the monarchy. Even a duke should not lay hands on those in service to the queens. But that aroma stole the fight from her soul. It was pungent, like fruit from lands south of the Surround, and it beguiled her senses. For the first time in her life, Lucia pleasured a man with her mouth.

“That’s a good girl.” Fortinbras voice lowered, and smoothed itself over each vowel. He practically purred, watching this young, forbidden woman fall to him. He never grew tired of these conquests. For the first few minutes, she remained taut like a bowstring, as he helped her rhythm with the weight of his hand on her silky brown hair. But it didn’t take long for her motion to turn fluid. What a sight she was, this sweet thing, bent slightly at the waist, fully clothed, and slobbering on his cock. She could get no more than the head in her mouth, but that was fine with Fortinbras. “I taste better than other men.”

“Mmmmpppphhhhhhhh.” Lucia reached both hands up to hold his manhood. She should not have been surprised, since she was rolling her tongue around that meaty helmet, but the weight of it startled her and caused her vagina to gush. She couldn’t reach her hands around the thing. She’d always thought herself to be a normal-sized woman, but at that moment she felt incredibly petite. She pulled off him and gasped for air. “Your Grace … is that enough? May I … go now?”

“Not quite yet, my little arbor flower.” Fortinbras, with skills gained from all the women who had fallen before little Lucia, quickly removed her stola. He drank in her naked beauty. Young, full tits heaved on her chest with each breath. Her dark nipples stood proudly on her copper skin. He admired the sweep out of her hips, and the black triangle between her legs. “First, you must open to me.”

“Wait … I haven’t … before … I … just wait …” Lucia felt herself rise above the floor, those great hands cupping her butt and lifting her into the air. She was now his plaything, and the realization sent an electric shock to her core. The smell of him surrounded her as he pressed her close and her cheek smooshed against that broad chest. “If you put it … in me … I’ll break.” Her heart thudded in her chest. She felt his helmet explore her outer folds. She convulsed in his arms.

“A common misconception, my maiden.” He slipped the head of his dick inside her and listened to her piggy grunts. She was his now. “You’d be surprised how often that’s been said to me. And untrue every time.” He tightened his grip on her round, little ass and pulled her down onto him several inches. She now wailed into his chest and clutched his back with her grubby hands.

“Too … much … uuuuggggghhhhhh … it’s … all the way … inside my belly … ooooohhhhhhhh.” Lucia was faintly embarrassed to lose control in front of a high lord, but her reasoning brain faded fast.

“It’s not halfway.” Fortinbras laughed again. “By summer’s end you’ll be riding me like the queens’ most nimble knight. Now here … ugh … take the rest of it.” With that he forced her down until their hips met. Her scream was surely heard by Potitus. Fortinbras hoped no other passersby wandered the halls in this part of the palace.

“Your Grace … ugh … Your Grace … Your Grace.” Soon, Lucia was guided by those massive hands to take great lunging strokes on that cock in midair. Her poor sandaled feet flopped on either side of the great mountain of a man, and her eyes lost focus. She had heard whispers about sex from the other women in the palace. Either it was uncomfortable and confusing, or mildly pleasant. But this was something else entirely. Her whole body surged with the power of the gods. Her vagina stretched to just before the point she feared it might snap on her, but never further. It greedily hugged the mammoth invader inside her so tight that she thought she might squeeze him out. And her mind was set aflame. A roaring bonfire of lust reshaped her very expectations from life. If this sort of pleasure was possible, why had nobody told her before now? Why had they kept it hidden? As she bounded on the duke, she knew she would forever give him all that he asked in exchange for access to that magical tool between his legs. A long wail escaped her lips and her mind was carried off entirely, leaving behind only the writhing animal in her lover’s arms.

“I am your first, I see.” Fortinbras pulled her off his long cock and placed her on her feet. Her legs nearly gave out, but kept her upright with a hand on her shoulder. “Will you tell me more about the princess?” He turned her around and lifted her standing onto the cushion of an embroidered chair. This way, he only had to lower himself a little to slide back into her. He grabbed her hips and let her know the full force of his power, watching his dick furrow into her most protected places.

“Eeeiiiiiiiiii … princess? Ugh … ugh …” Lucia wanted desperately to give him whatever he asked, but she couldn’t get her mind to process his request. “Ugh … what … princess?”

“It seems …” Fortinbras chuckled. “… that I have so … uh … uh … uh … overpowered your mind that you cannot answer me.”

To this, Lucia responded with a series of mewls.

“So be it.” Fortinbras accelerated his pace. “It is time … for you … to receive … aaaaaauuuuuuggggghhhhhh.” He let the eruption explode out of him and filled the young woman he had speared.

“Wwwwaaaa … wwwwwaa …” She wanted to tell him to wait again. To do it outside. But another orgasm had gripped her mind and robbed her of her speech. Instead of a protest, she quivered on him, held the chairback with rigid fingers, and let the fire spread within her womb.

A while later, Fortinbras retrieved his tunic and pulled it over his head. “Would you like to see me again, maiden?”

Lucia’s eyes rolled languidly over to him. She sat slumped in the embroidered chair, still naked. Her breasts hung to the side, and her vagina burped out a copious amount of sperm. She tried to restart her mind. The first thought was that she’d need to see a witch to make sure she wasn’t with child. “I must see you again, Your Grace.” The ferocity of her own words startled her out of her stupor. She rose from the chair and moved toward her stola. She was well aware that his eyes followed her form and that she pleased him. “I mean, if you would care for such a meeting, I would be at your mercy.” And she would be at his mercy. His plaything.

“Very good, my arbor blossom.” Fortinbras smiled, set his robes just right, and pulled on his cloak.

As she pulled on her own clothes, Lucia marveled at the warmth in his smile. How a duke had come to see her this way was a deep mystery.

“I will send word.” Fortinbras turned and headed for the door.

“Your Grace.” Lucia stopped struggling with her stola, the dress only covering her top-half, and curtsied. She would wait for his word with bated breath. But first she needed to see about cleaning the mess they’d made.

“And how was my son’s visit to the palace?” Cassia smiled over at her oldest. He was now the Duke of Ostia Novus, she could hardly believe it. Her dimples lessened some as she reminded herself that his position came too early, at the expense of her poor husband. She brushed a curl of brown hair away from her round, pretty face. “Did you find the queens in good health?”

“They made me … take an … oath,” Fortinbras said between great bites of honeyed ham. “All went … well.” He looked from his sweet mother across the long table over to the Sorceress Brynhild. The woman winked a blue eye at the duke and Fortinbras nodded back. Then his gaze moved down the table to his siblings. His older sister, Bantia sat backlit by the roaring fire, she prodded her meat with a silver fork, curtains of brown hair fell on either side of her face. Fortinbras looked next to his little brother, Vel, now nineteen years and nearly as tall as his brother. The boy had inherited the same fair features, too, but his aspect was unmanly in Fortinbras’s opinion. He was a wraith of a man, made of only skin and bone. Which was fine, since he was destined for a life without responsibility of title or lands. Finally, Fortinbras looked to the youngest of the bunch. Naevia was a woman grown at eighteen years, but she maintained a youthful quality. Unlike the rest of her family, she had neither blond nor dark hair, but instead a flaming cascade of copper waves flowed over her shoulders. At the moment, she stared doe-eyed at Vel. Fortinbras wondered about those two sometimes. Now that he was the head of the family, he would have to have a talk with them sometime soon. He turned back to his mother. “I think I shall visit the palace again, soon.” He gave her a mischievous look.

“Now, little sparrow. I know that expression well.” Cassia frowned at her handsome son. “Trouble followed on the heels of that smile throughout your childhood. The queens are not some dockside friends to be taken lightly. Do not mess with them. Your father would only visit the palace upon invitation and even then—”

Fortinbras cut her off with a wave. “Did I say that I would travel without an invite?”

“They’ve invited you back?” Cassia raised an eyebrow. She did not want royal eyes upon her house. Better to be left to their work running Ostia Novus. They were, after all, the port of destination for all the Surround.

“Did I say that?” Fortinbras smirked again and then turned his attention back to his ham.

“His Grace’s power is now in full bloom.” The Sorceress Brynhild smiled pleasantly, showing off her chilling northern smile. She was a tall woman, dwarfing the other ladies at the table. Her blond hair was braided up on her head, in a way not in fashion in the Surround. “Don’t you think it’s best to let him see to his own business?”

“Yes.” Cassia’s round face fell. “Yes, of course.” Her husband had always lent an ear to her advice. She would have to adjust to their new life. She turned her attention back to her meal.

“Are you sure Your Grace wouldn’t prefer some young thing between his bedsheets?” Brynhild carefully removed her stola. She measured her pace to tease the young man as much as possible. She lowered the dress rather than lifting it over her head, exposing one pale breast after the other.

“I had a young thing earlier today on your suggestion.” Fortinbras laughed and reached for his hardening member. He lay on his back in the middle of his enormous four-post bed, watching the beauty sway as she disrobed. “Besides, you look every bit as young as the Maiden Lucia. But much more beautiful.” He carefully regarded her breasts, with their pale pink nipples jutting out. The breasts were probably bigger than Lucia’s, but on this tall woman they were proportionally smaller. They suited her well, Fortinbras thought. He watched as her flat midriff came into view.

“I look that young, you think? His Grace is too kind.” Brynhild could see his eyes fix on the blond hair between her legs. His cock rose higher still. He was like a dog trained to obey for its reward. “Looks are often deceiving.”

“Whatever you say.” Fortinbras reached out for her and pulled her into bed with him. She was the only woman he’d been with who somewhat matched him in size. He mused on her body as he pulled her on top of him and she guided him into her ready pussy. This was how most people of the Surround experienced their mating. Two giants were no different than small people relative to one another. “How are you always so tight?”

Brynhild ground her hips on him and ignored the question. “I know … ooohhhhhh … you like them young,” she cooed. “But how about older women? Do you fancy them … as well? Your mother is very pretty.” She dug her nails into his chest and felt that wonderful cock stretch at her. Every time was like the first time. Because, of course, her vagina was unlike that of any other women.

“My mother?” Fortinbras frowned. “The gods forbid it. And, anyway, she is … my mother.” Despite the woman working him he felt his dick deflate some.

“You long for her, Your Grace.” Brynhild’s eyes locked with his and moved her rhythm faster, now bouncing on his dick. She could feel him harden again. “She cared for you your whole life, bringing you countless joys. It is time you brought her happiness, too. Especially now that your father is gone and her bed is a barren place.”

“By the gods, you’re right.” Fortinbras couldn’t believe it. He had had these feelings all along, and only now just realized them. “I will bring her happiness on the end of my spear.”

“That’s my duke.” Brynhild bounced and rocked her hips in a motion she had honed over the centuries, guaranteed to bring a man to his completion. Her breasts hopped wildly before his eyes. “Now … ugh … give me your seed … oooohhhhhhhhh.” She rolled her eyes and cried out as the young man bellowed and emptied himself inside her.

“I’m already in here, young man. You can take a bath later.” Cassia covered her large breasts with her arms and squinted through the swirling steam. She couldn’t see the intruder clearly, but his hulking, manly form gave him away. It was clearly her first born son.

“I wanted to join you, Mother.” His keen eyes were blunted by the murk of the room. Fortinbras strode in, confident as could be despite his nakedness in front of his own mother. His heavy dick, soft for the moment, swung between his legs as he carefully stepped through the tiled room. “We need to have a talk in privacy.” He slipped into the bath opposite her. Now that he was closer, he could see the swell of her hanging breasts behind her arm. She was so full of curves and supple promises. So unlike the young women he normally consorted with. How had he not seen her true beauty before now?

“We can have a private chat when I am fully dressed.” Cassia didn’t like the way he looked at her. Her sons were so different. If only gentle Vel had been the first born. He would make for a more caring master. “Please leave and we can discuss this later.”

“You may go.” Fortinbras waved his hand at the shadows of servants that lined about the room. The women quickly exited leaving mother and son alone in the bath. “Now, that’s better. I’ve been thinking, you must be very lonely with Father gone.” He slid along the bench around the bath until they were next to one another. Steam rose around them and he could see beads of sweat form on her forehead and exposed shoulders. Such delicate shoulders, wonderfully juxtaposed with the swell of her breasts just below. He put a hand on her arm and slowly lowered it into the water. His eyes feasted on her exposed flesh. Her nipples were large and dark, with wide areola.

“What … are you doing, darling?” Cassia was well aware that he was aiming to cross a terrible Rubicon. As a woman of the Surround, she always felt small in her son’s presence. But never more so than at that moment.

“Call me Duke Fortinbras, or Your Grace.” Fortinbras bent down and kissed her cheek demurely. “I am your duke. And you are still my duchess, no?”

“I am … the duchess … yes.” The steam seemed to constrict her breathing. Cassia needed to leave that place, and quickly. She lifted herself from the water, knowing full well that she would expose her lower half to him. Sure enough, as she climbed out of the bath, she could see his eyes upon her butt. She stood straight above him dripping on the tile, looking down at him over her shoulder.

“You look less a duchess and more a Venus. You are, in my eyes, the very goddess of fertility and harvest.” He reached out a hand and clasped her ankle so that she wouldn’t slip away. “Come back to the bath.”

“Let go of me, Your Grace,” she said the last two words with a hiss. She pulled her leg, but his grip was firm.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Vel stepped into the bath, and saw his mother’s form through the haze. “I saw the servants leave. I thought you had left, Mother.”

“Turn and go, little sparrow.” Cassia’s voice had a hint of desperation. She could see Vel’s tall lanky form hesitate. “You can have the bath in a little while.”

“Is there someone with you?” Vel had poor eyesight, but he thought he saw the shadow of a man in the bath next to his mother. By the man’s size he could be no other but the duke. “Are you in trouble?” He did not like the tone of Cassia’s voice. He took a couple steps across the room, paused, and pulled his robes tight around him.

“You are dismissed, little brother,” Fortinbras sneered. His grip tightened on the ankle he held. “Go off and find Naevia so that you might play your games together. Leave me to play mine.”

Vel blinked. He could just make out a strong, muscled arm snaking out of the bath, clutching Cassia. He knew that his brother suspected he and Naevia of being closer than they were, which meant that Vel understood the kind of games Fortinbras had planned for their mother. “Leave her alone.” Vel hurried to the bath, bent down, and tried to pry his brother’s fingers from their mother’s ankle.

Having none of the intrusion, Fortinbras slammed his other fist into Vel’s right check.

“Nooooo!” Cassia screamed.

Vel’s robes opened as he fell to the tile with a crack of ceramic. Fortinbras hesitated when he saw the young man’s manhood exposed. Soft though Vel was, he was quite large. He was, indeed, more manly than Fortinbras had thought.

“Get your hand off my mother.” Using his brother’s brief pause, Vel got to his feet and pulled Cassia from his clutches. “Come, let’s go.” Vel stumbled away, he protectively pulled her under his robes, aware of her hot skin against his. He felt her boob bounce against his hip as they walked, but he did his best to put it out of his mind.

Outside the bath, mother and son nearly ran into Potitus who was loitering about.

“Where is the duke?” Potitus looked unsure of himself as he blocked their path.

“His Grace is enjoying his bath.” Cassia mustered her best smile. “Out of our way, Potitus.”

The man didn’t move.

“Did you not hear your duchess? Move.” Vel was concerned that each moment wasted in the hall offered his brother a chance to retrieve their mother.

Reluctantly, Potitus stepped aside.

“Let’s get you back to your rooms.” Vel took a deep breath in the clear air of the hall. They turned right and hurried away. He looked over his shoulder frequently, but it seemed Fortinbras had not pursued them.

That night, as the family supped on lamprey bisque, a quiet beset the table. The duke had little to say to the others, but glared especially at his younger brother.

Vel kept his head down, and barely enjoyed the salty meal. He was appreciative of Naevia’s hand on his thigh. He hadn’t told her how he’d bruised his face, but her green eyes wouldn’t leave his cheek, and her freckled face wore a particularly severe frown for one usually prone to joviality.

“I will leave for the palace first thing tomorrow.” Fortinbras abruptly stood and cast his bowl into the roaring fire where it shattered. “It should be a day of good fortune for this family. Wish me luck.”

They all murmured their good luck to him, though none of them knew of his errand’s purpose.

“Goodnight.” He turned and strode out, his heavy cloak whirling about him. Potitus followed him out.

Silence lingered in the dining hall after he left. Servants removed the bisque and brought in honey cake. Cassia stood and bid her remaining children goodnight.

Bantia was next to leave. She mumbled her evening pleasantries, and her tall, slender frame vanished out the door.

Then it was just the youngest two.

“Tell me now, sweet Vel.” Naevia gently touched the ghastly purple blotch on his cheek. “Was this our brother?” She whispered the words so that the remaining servants wouldn’t hear. Like her mother, she had the stature of a woman from the surround, so her hand appeared quite small next to her brother’s face.

“It’s a confusing business.” Vel smiled at her concern and ruffled her copper hair. He took a bite of cake and thought things over. “I hardly know what I saw. You know how my eyes are. I cannot tell you anything for it would surely cast a pall upon our family. And right after Father’s disappearance.”

“What can’t you tell me?” Naevia broke a piece of her own honey cake and took her eyes off her brother to observe it. It was perfectly light and spongy. She squeezed. Yet firm. “You were never very good with secrets.”

“I really can’t.” Vel stood, and gave her a sad smile. He bent low and kissed her perfect forehead. “I’m going to read in the library. We’ll talk tomorrow.” As he left, his sandal crunched on a piece of his brother’s bowl that had ejected itself from the fire. His brow furrowed. He needed to do some research. He couldn’t tell up from down at the moment.

The muffled screaming seeped out into the hall. Apparently, the maiden enjoyed her second meeting with the duke. Potitus smirked as he listened to her fall out of her mind. He leaned against the stone wall near the posed carcass of a giant beaver. The taxidermist had done his best to make the beast look menacing, but it was a beaver after all. Potitus gave the creature a nod. They were becoming fast friends, having spent hours in the hallway together.

A deep ringing vibrated the stone gently. The great bell on the tower somewhere far above them told the palace that noon had arrived. It informed Potitus that he had spent his whole morning listening to rutting with his aquatic friend. “Will they ever finish?” He rolled his eyes at the lifeless animal. A few minutes later, he heard a mighty roar and the loudest cry yet from the woman. “Finally. Right?” The beaver did not reply. It had the patience of Pluto.

It was none of Potitus’s business where the duke sought out pussy. But the valet wondered why they braved the Hawk’s Road, waking up at an ungodly hour, just so the duke could dip his wand in some woman bound to another. Maybe the duke enjoyed taking what was not his? Potitus couldn’t say. But if that was the case, there were plenty of wives in Ostia Novus. And none of them bound to the princess as was the Maiden Lucia. But the duke was the duke, and who was Potitus to question?

The door opened and Lucia emerged. She closed the door behind her and didn’t look at Potitus. Her stola was ripped at the shoulder, and she waddled away down the hall as if she had just spent all morning riding some giant beast. Which, Potitus mused, she had. Motion down the hall caught his eye. Men in the blue cloaks of the palace guard moved two-by-two down toward him. Potitus cast his eyes to the ground and tried to look like he belonged out in the palace corridor for no reason. Thank the gods the duke had already stopped his rutting. Lucia passed them and disappeared. Potitus waited for the guards’ rustling cloaks to pass him, but instead, six pairs of sandaled feet stopped right in front of him. “Good, afternoon,” Potitus said.

“Just so,” said a cold feminine voice from down the hall.

A knock on the door turned Fortinbras around just as he adjusted his robes. “Hold, Potitus. I am almost dressed. I’m starving. As a duke, do you think I’m entitled to a meal from the palace kitchen?”

The door swung open and Potitus stood in the doorway with the most odd expression screwed to his face.

“Well, man? The kitchens. What do you think?” Fortinbras pinned his cloak and eyed his valet. Was something wrong with the man? And then Potitus fell forward like a board, his face crashing into the stone slab floor. A dagger stuck from his back at about the point where Fortinbras figured the valet’s heart would be. The duke’s breath caught in the back of his throat. A singular chill entered the room.

“I do not think our kitchen will serve a duke without invitation. Even one from our great port of Ostia Novus.” A woman’s voice carried over the valet’s dead body. It was clean, crisp, and precise. Six men filed into the room, their blue cloaks clasped neatly over their purple tunics. And then, a pale woman with black hair wearing a green patinaed copper crown glided in behind them.

“Queen Regent Valeria.” Fortinbras dropped to a knee.

“Rise up.” Valeria carried with her a scepter of patinaed copper, with an image of Salacia fashioned on the head.

“You’ve … killed my valet … Your Majesty.” Fortinbras rose back to his full height, towering above the others in the room. His brow furrowed. Potitus was a good man. Normally he’d be in a rage. But it seemed one of the queens was responsible.

“A price needed to paid.” She stepped around her men and walked up to the duke. “You only just gave us your oath, and yet then you took from our princess.”

“Yes, I see.” Fortinbras nodded. So, this was his way out. Potitus was not an unfair price to pay for his transgressions with the Maiden Lucia. He’d been caught and now he’d need a new plan. “I hope you’ll forgive my passion for your beautiful maiden.”

“Your passion I can forgive.” Valeria looked up into the man’s ugly blue eyes. However could they stand to look at each other in the north, she wondered? Such a hideous people. “You were asking the maiden questions about the princess?” She turned and walked around the man. He reeked of sex. She loitered behind him.

“Only to know her royal highness better.” Fortinbras relaxed his shoulders. He was comfortable with words. “My family has long kept safe the Surround’s biggest port, but my seat of power is new. I felt in bed with the maiden I might learn more about how to please the crown.”

“Fifty-two years.”

“Your Majesty?” Fortinbras furrowed his brow again.

“Your family has guarded Ostia Novus for the crown for only fifty-two years. That is when your grandfather came from the north and aided in our revolution. We are the true people of the Surround. We who are dark, correctly proportioned, and do not scheme for others’ lands.” The queen pressed a button on her scepter and a four-inch spike silently rose from Salacia’s copper arm. “We our bound to honor your family’s seat and title. But we are growing short on male Tullius heirs.”

“I don’t understand.” Fortinbras tried to look over his shoulder at the queen, but she was standing right behind him.

“On that we agree.” Valeria thrust her scepter up and caught Fortinbras with the spike at the base of his skull. With a faint crack, the bone gave way and all four inches embedded in his brain. She then quickly removed the scepter and stepped away from the giant of a man. She did not want to be crushed like some unskilled lumberjack. With a mighty thump, the erstwhile duke’s body hit the stone floor. “Let us hope your brother understands more than you did. We will tolerate you Tullius savages in Ostia Novus,” she said to the bleeding corpse. “But not here. Never in Accipiter Cubitum. And we cannot forgive treachery.”