Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Noble Affairs (Qedesha and PattonFan)

Q

Qedesha

Super-Earth
Joined
Mar 29, 2010
The Kingdom of Derva spread from the western shores to a range of forbidding mountains in the east, a rich, fertile needle of a land, well-protected and comfortably populated. The kingdom was a serious power in the region, with a strong trade economy, a small but well-armed and trained military, and a large and popular royal family.

Princess Sia was the second daughter of the enthusiastically procreative king. Typical of the traditions of the land, she'd been married off as soon as the laws allowed, betrothed at 14 without much consideration for her finer feelings. Her husband, the lord of a small section of land in a neighbouring kingdom, was a wide alliance for Derva. He was kind, gentle, not unintelligent, but more interested in lengthy hunts and formal dinners than he was in his wife.

The pale, slender, dark-haired girl, now a healthy, alert sixteen years old, was regularly left in the small castle that was the wedding gift from her parents. Alone... except for the small army of servants that bustled about... she was always seeking a new diversion from the dragging days.
 
Sir Janton was a well-known hero of the last war. He lead the army against invading forces, defeated them and invaded the enemy's territory with his archers and cavalry units, eventually decimating the enemy and widening his country's territory. He was a handsome man, standing at six foot three. He was a very toned man from years of training. His age did not demonstrate his experience; he was merely 24, but quickly rose through the ranks and became known as a ruthless killer of the enemy, but a kind and compassionate man towards his people.

He spent most of his time near his king, and Janton's chosen men protected the throne. When he wasn't eating with the king or merely talking with him, he would be found in the barracks speaking to his troops or assisting with training. He had nothing else to do since his wife had passed years ago from a plague that infested a small number of the population, but was extremely fatal. He was lonely, but his troops and the king would suffice to fill the gap...
 
Sia was lurking in the musty library that filled one of the large castle rooms. She'd found an entire collection of books on ancient romances and was working her way through them to pass the days, grist for the daydream mill.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by one of the maidservants, the girl dipping into a curtsy before handing a card to the princess.
"Sir Janton is here, Highness," the maid said slightly excitedly. "The King sent him to establish a training barracks here at the castle!"
Sia took the card, examining it carefully before nodding.
"Explain that the Prince is away. If he wishes to talk to me in his absence, he can come through to here."
The maidservant hesitated... a man meeting a woman alone in a room was rather against social convention... but a glare from Sia sent her scurrying.
 
Sir Janton walked in; he was wearing his casual battle attire, which is what he would roam the castle in. It consisted of a steel breastplate with his unit's golden dragon painted on, along with a star representing his rank. Upon his shoulder were metal shoulder guards, steal vambraces, a metal skirt, his iron boots, and a cape with the kingdom's insignia on it. Hanging from his waist was his giant claymore sword; not his weapon of choice, but it was one he could wield easily.

His hair was about mid-length to the small of his back, braided and brown. His jaw was wide and clean-shaven - a luxury provided by good pay to constantly go to the barber. His eyes were green, and just above his right eye a scar from an old battle wound was barely visible. His eyes were intent - an appearance earned through constant battle.

He approached the princess confidently in the library, but noticed that they were alone. He immediately took a knee and bowed his head. "Hello, your highness," he said in a dark, isolated voice. "I have come to speak to you of training troops in the castle and would like your approval in doing so as you are the one in authority with the prince in absence."
 
Much to Sia's regular disgust, the formal fashion in the courts these days was layered, flowing, full-length dresses. Having the finest tailors in the land helped, though... she was in a long, frilly green dress that clung to her slender form and then highlighted the curve to her hips, flaring out and down to the floor. It hissed across the stone floors as she approached, striking against the dark hair and pale complexion. Large dark eyes studied the man, framed by a heart-shaped face, above rosebud lips. The princess was certainly a beauty.

"Of course, Sir Janton. It is a pleasure to welcome you, and I'm sure my husband would be reluctant to go against my father's wishes. The castle grounds are yours to toy with as you desire. Might I ask for more details of your intentions?"
Her voice was slightly breathless, a combination of the tight bodice of the dress and the sudden masculine presence of the military man in the silent room. His voice only added to the effect.
 
Janton rose up and greeted the Lady. "I apologize early, your highness, I am not great at formality." His eyes dropped to the books she had been reading and took note almost immediately. "Lady Sia, if you would, please join me at the table," he said leading himself to a reading table in the confines of the room. "I have much I would like to discuss involving your men and our military prowess."

Before reaching the table, he stopped; "I am terribly sorry, your highness, I ask permission to remove my plate. It makes sitting in chair extremely uncomfortable," he said. He bowed politely as he asked, of course, paying proper respects to her and her royal state as she so deserved. His voice remained rather stern even when asking permission; a sign of no fear once again obtained through years of battle.
 
"Yes, of course, Sir Janton. It would honor us if someone with your reputation would feel at home here."
She smiled, a little uncertainly, moving away to the door briefly, opening it to find a maidservant hovering outside.
"Wine, fruit, and water for washing. Quickly now, or I'll be down to the kitchens myself!"
The maid bobbed in a hurried curtsy and vanished down the corridor, Sia gliding back in to settle into the chair in an entirely faked confidence that belied her years. She pretended not to watch as he removed the plate, seemingly staring into space.

The maid returned in less than a minute with a large bowl of water and some white cloth, followed by another with a pitcher of wine, two tankards and a bowl of fruit all balanced precariously. They managed to set them down without incident, glancing sideways at the near-scandalous meeting of the pair, and then vanished back out of the room.
 
Sir Janton now only wore his tight robe of cloth as he sat down. The plate was place on a chair neatly with the cape folded neatly, not to touch the floor. He removed his vambraces and set them on the table. After the water, wine and fruits were delivered and he ensured the maid was gone, he turned back around towards the princess. "Now, your highness, I doubt you've been informed of the entire plan," he said, pouring some wine for her and himself, of course her first. "Not only do I wish to get some barracks up, but I also wish to install kennels for a unique form of canine called a mastiff. It's much larger than a wolf, a great warrior, and very loyal. The kennels won't take long to erect, nor will the training. We have traded for some trained dogs already and have a trainer coming from another country to teach our people how to train them." He took a drink of his wine. A large drink. He had become a slight alcoholic after his wife's passing, but had done well to hide it.

He continued without letting her get a word in, "The barracks won't take long if you allow us to temporarily clear a servants' corridor until we have time to erect a new building for them, ensuring a separation from work for the servants and hopefully an increase of morale." The dribble went on for a while, but the gist of it was that the castle would have more archers and cavalry, along with trained wardogs to ensure protection. After the pitch, which he was confident that would be fine, he almost immediately broke into more personal questions. "How have you been coping with the prince being so far away?"
 
She had been trained almost from birth to be a willing hostess, and the refilling of his wine and offering of the fruit had been, in the absence of servants, entirely automatic. She nodded with interest as he explained the plans, content to listen... nothing sounded out of the ordinary, and she'd seen the plans of her father rearrange entire towns, let along one small castle, so she knew she didn't really have a choice.

The sudden personal question, as much a breach of protocol as the private meeting, surprised her. Shocked, she answered more honestly than she would have otherwise intended.
"Well. It has been difficult, Sir Knight. He does enjoy his hunting, and the arranging of his hunts of course, and it is wonderful to see him pleased... but a woman does desire her man in his absence, of course."

She blushed hotly, and prettily, at the unintended double meaning of the words, eyes dipping away from his as she awkwardly sought for something else to say to recover.
 
Janton nodded and smiled, "Ah, yes, the loneliness; the worst part of having one leave. It is true that you don't know what you've got until it's gone, but at least yours will come back," he said lifting the glass to his lips and taking another rather large drink. "But at least you have your books to fulfill your needs." He took the fruit and then bit into it. He had no idea that she was blushing, but picked up on the double meaning, but was unsure of the intent. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on the outcome, his words had left an opening. He was not used to this kind of predicament and had no idea quite yet what he could be getting into.

The fruit was delicious and kept his mind further away from what he was doing. His mind was focused on wine, fruit, and of course the lovely woman sitting in front of him. Of course she was sexually appealing, but he didn't even realize he had not watched his words, which was weird for him, but of course he's become used to talking only to men.
 
"Ah. Yes. I am... sorry for your loss." Unusually disoriented, both by the personal turn of the conversation and by the sudden reference to the man's loss, she stammered a little. She glanced across at the books, blushing even more when she realised that the titles were on display and that he'd obviously noted them.

"Yes. I do like... the books. They are far from a replacement of course... for a man's attention."
Again, unintended double meanings, seen too late. She listened to them fill the air, staring intently at the table now, hands tightly wrapped in her lap.

To make it worse, the book at the top of the pile she had been sitting beside was notoriously racy, to the point that some of the more conservative counties had banned it from discussions. Few would admit to having it in their personal collections. She had found it tucked into the end of a dusty shelf, and had barely glanced at the pages.
 
This time he took the liberty of refilling his glass himself. "Far from...?" He asked curiously, trying to figure out what the young princess was saying. "Your highness, I am far from young and naive, are you making an advance on a loyal servant at the expense of your crown and king? If so, I find myself in a predicament I am in trouble in no matter the outcome." He took a bite of his fruit, but chose not to drink his wine because of the sudden change of direction in conversation. It was true, her word against his in the event that he denied her would still find him at the guillotine and disgraced in the history books. And if he fell through with the plan, what is to keep her from claiming rape if someone found out - or even if no one did?

This is why a meeting between these two was deemed unconventional. Now he was stuck.
 
"What!?"
She was abruptly up from the table, dress flaring as she took several indignant steps away. Outrage flooded through her body... suddenly met by a sheer, delicious thrill rushing the other way. The very thought, hidden in her subconscious and brought forth by his words, was achingly tempting. Mental confusion tangled with her tongue, making her stutter again.

"You treat me cruelly, Sir... Sir Knight, with your accusation. I never... I would never suggest such a thing... of my own violition."
The caveat hung in the air, itself a terrible, shameful, exciting sign of her indecision. She panted with only partially affected emotion, the youthful but appreciable cleavage in the height-of-fashion bodice moving distractingly.

"I would never seek to bring you injury," she finished suddenly, more to break the silence than any other reason. The words still hung on the air, pinned by the tension that had suddenly risen between them. She was again painfully aware of his masculinity, the strength and coiled power in his form.
 
Janton laughed a confident laugh, "Well, alright, then, your highness. It's a good thing. You had me in a strange predicament where wine was delivered, we were alone and you had the power over me." He drank again from his wine, once again finishing his glass. He stood up and immediately bowed to the young princess, "if this is simply how you normally act, I must say that your husband has a very lascivious wife that will get many men into trouble, and as such, I feel it might be best if I take my leave. That is, of course, unless you need something else of me." He looked up at her and finished his bow.

He then picked up his armor plate and began unstrapping it to put it back on. He did take his time, it would be a terrible annoying burden to have to take it back off again if the talks were to continue. After all, even though it wasn't actually his combat armor, it was still armor and a pain in the ass to prepare to wear, let alone remove. The cape was even worse to fold as to not crease it.
 
She had seen the moment unfold, blooming with terrible, glorious possibilities, her subconscious teaming up with her young, hormone-ridden body to deliver a myriad of unsolicited ideas to her mind... and suddenly it was going, the abruptly hated plate armor lifting to be a shield between them.

"I don't want..." she started, lifting one hand in a gesture to halt his preparation for departure. She stopped then, a faint moue of indignation appearing on her pretty face.
"Lascivious!? I am not!"
She crossed her arms, nose lifted and face turned away.
 
Janton set down his plate and looked at her. His eyes slanted downward and a firm stare was aimed at her, almost eying her deep down. "Look, your highness, no offense intended at all, but you may not even realize it, but you are seducing me. The way you move, act and speak shows it. You can deny it all you want, but as you lie asleep tonight longing a man's touch you will remember this and admit I am right. You may not admit it to me, but you will admit it to yourself."

He had had many women try to seduce him; sure, none as stunning or charismatic as she, but he had learned how to tell when a woman was trying to seduce him. He had never been this tempted, but always this confrontational. It usually got him somewhere calling them out, sometimes even immediately. Whether it happened or not, he was already balancing on a rope over a pool of sharks, but a man like him did not fear death.
 
"You suggestion is uncouth."
She was turned away now, arms still crossed, the riposte snapped over her shoulder. She was glaring at the wall now, mind racing with confusion and excitement.

Finally, more on a whim than with any real plan in mind, she turned to confront him.
"What if I were. Do you suggest that you would be seduced? Knowing all that it might mean for the kingdom? Or even yourself personally?"
Her eyes were huge, shining with the emotions within her, the flush very pretty on her pale cheeks.
 
Janton only shook his head. "Your highness, I am a man of logic and reason. I stand less chance of surviving if I walk out of this room now and do not fulfill your wants; however, if you don't want what this is leading to, I beg of you that you just dismiss this. But let's say, hypothetically, of course, you do want this. I am forced to comply, not because I am afraid of death, but because I am afraid to die dishonorably." He took an immediate knee, but kept his eyes locked with hers. His weren't like hers, though, they were emotionless. This was merely a way to ensure that he doesn't meet a dishonorable death. A way to ensure that he would be on the battleground once more, killing his enemies and saving his people.

"In all honesty, your highness, I am at your whim."
 
Her face softened immediately. She hadn't thought of that level of risk... the man's reputation forced her to think of him as an equal, no matter what their noble rank. This was... something different.

She hesitated, then abruptly stepped forward, reaching down to gently pull him to his feet. The hard warmth of his powerful upper arms was electric under her hands, highlighted even more by the rarity of her contact with anyone other than her personal maid or the occasional attentions of her husband. Her hands rested there for a moment, before she hurriedly forced herself to pull them away.

"And what, 'hypothetically'" the emphasis on the repeat of his own words was deliberately heavy, "if I wished to be at your whim? What if it were all a secret? What would you do then?"
Her voice quavered at the end.
 
He stood with her and looked into her eyes. "Well, being you're a beautiful lady, I would lay you across the table and make love to you. But alas, this isn't the way it has turned out; you have me by the balls. He had felt her warmth to him; he had missed a woman's touch. A lot. Perhaps that is why he had become so outright with her. "But let's say it is just our little secret, I am a bit more rough than the prince is, I'm sure. I am certainly not a court jester. Before you make up your mind, remember that I am an experienced general. It will not be as loving as it is with others."

He said that as both a warning and to push forward curiosity. He doubted the prince was ever rough with her. He even wondered if she had ever cum, and if so was it her own work or another man's. As usual, he made his own assumptions almost immediately instead of asking her, or even planning to ask her. He had already set a goal.
 
She gasped at the roughness of his words, and at the blatant suggestion. Her cheeks had never been as red as they were now, and she felt distinctly lightheaded. She knew she should demand that he leave. She knew she should probably call the guards and have him thrown out bodily. She knew she should probably wail and faint and spend weeks distraught in her room at the very thoughts expressed here.

And she knew she was incapable of doing any such thing. Her mind had been made up from the beginning, she simpky hadn't been aware of it. It was something she wanted at a much deeper level than mere social conventions.

"I want you to follow your whim," she said softly, the words as inevitable as the rising of the sun. She stared at him, eyes full of both fright and desire. Her arms were by her side, waiting as pliant as a doll for his desires.
 
A small smile appeared on his lips, but it was only there for a moment before he grabbed her and pressed his against hers. His arms wrapped around her in a firm grip down around her waist and to her back right above her ass. His eyes were shut, he was caught up in the moment. It had been a long time since he felt a woman, he was full of lust from years of abstinence. He had forgot he still had his steel tasset around his waist, but he didn't care at the moment, but who would? This woman was gorgeous. He could feel her breasts through her dress and through his underarmor cloth, which only added to the desire. His heart raced, yet another feeling he hadn't had in years. A new feeling, not just the adrenalin from battle, this was something more. His member throbbed, his muscles tightened and spasmed. He missed this.
 
She gasped. From an upbringing of cautious, distant contact, the sudden powerful sensation of this hard, dangerous man embracing her, holding her, kissing her... the contrast was too much and she briefly swooned. As her mind straightened she was shocked to find her arms around his neck, kissing him back enthusiastically, if vaguely, her soft body pressed against him.

The armor was hard and cold against her thighs, even through the layered dress, and she gloried in the sensation despite the discomfort. His hands were hot against the small of her back, the material there thin enough that she could feel the individual fingers, and their hard warmth.

Everything sent a rush through her that she had never felt, even with the fear and excitement of her wedding night.
 
He broke contact with the lady momentarily as he worked to remove her dress. He wanted so bad to just rip it off, but that would be hard to explain to anyone she saw along the way to her room. Perhaps something like that could come another time. But right now, he worked with the situation and figured out how to drop her dress. His eyes widened as it fell. His cock hardened even more... To the point where it felt like it might explode. He actually had to take a step back to check it out better. A smirk appeared on his face, and a monstrous look appeared in his eyes. The thoughts racing through his mind must be horrid - probably another reason he had tried to avoid women. He was about to make a princess his victim, or at least it was that way in his mind.

"You're... Amazing," he said slyly with a dog-eat-dog smile on his face, working his hands to the tasset to remove the armor. It took very little time to drop them, along with the cloth skirt to reveal his member. Soon, the shirt came off with it, and he stood there only in his boots, revealing a large, ripped body covered in scars. His member was exactly what one would expect from a man of his stature. It had to compete with 10 inches with a girth intimidating in itself. It throbbed, the veins pulsed.
 
Men, amongst the noble families, were chosen for their power, for their skill at arms, for their skills at intrigue or battle or simple diplomacy.

Women, on the other hand, were chosen for nothing but their desirability. Sia, and her powerful family, was at the top of this pyramid of thousands of years of evolution, and her body made this clear.

Slender, yet curved from a flat stomach to wide, childbearing hips, and to an ass worthy of the obscene term. Her body was mostly hairless, a light furring on a mound already flushed with excitement being the only visible sign below her eyelashes.
Her breasts were firm, high, and large for her age, jutting with the pertness of youth from her chest.

She literally trembled, her body seeming soft and frail against the erect, ramrod musculature of the man before her. Her eyes dropped irresistably to the member jutting at her, widening as she stared, lips trembling in a very real fear that lifted her lust on wings.

Despite her rank, she felt almost compelled to drop to her knees and worship at the view of masculinity. Her legs did actually weaken, controlled by sheer noble willpower.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom