## Archive-name: solstice_castle14

From: Trane@TeamHbbs.com

Subject: Solstice Castle 14/14

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

SOLSTICE CASTLE, PART 14
The King's announcement had a varied effect upon those of us in the room. Novan looked shocked. Most of the others looked startled at the thought that a cardinal should have fathered a child by a princess, but did not seem nearly as stunned as Abret himself. After all, this event had occurred some eighteen years before. I of course had heard of Andis from the brothers in the monastery in which I lived; a man annointed as the cardinal at a young age would by any standards be a legend among the clergy. As I recall being told, he had opted to renounce the mantle of leader of the faith many years before, though none would admit even knowing why he would have taken such a step. As the brothers related, Andis had served as a simple country friar for several years in the wilds of the uncivilized forests, where he ultimately had succumbed to one of the illnesses prevalent in the forested regions. His body now lay in the cemetery of the monastery.
The ghostly tableau re-formed itself above the dungeon table on which the multi-colored jewels rested. Now, we watched a sunrise at sea, with two ships in view, the smaller of which appeared to be overtaking the larger. The scene shifted to what seemed to be the smaller and older of the two vessels. Three men were standing in a cabin, the dried, graying wood suggesting that the ship had been long used and little maintained. A husky, young man with a dark beard sat while two slender men stood at attention before him. The sitting man turned his head, and we could see it was a younger version of King Abret himself. All in the room watching the figures floating above the table, save the King and Novan, gasped in surprise.
In the tableau, Abret looked up with a pained, weak look on his face. "Now, you two make sure that her boat is diverted by your men to Badger's Isle and left there for at least two weeks. By the time she can return, the cardinals will have selected me for the throne, and they would not dare rescind the selection and coronation, as times are unsettled enough as they are. And, do not harm her - or anyone else at least so far as you can help it - as Disproul is, after all, a princess."
The standing men nodded. One stepped forward into the light of Abret's cabin's lantern, revealing himself to be a gaunt, beetle-browed native of Drofnats. "As you wish, Prince Abret ... or should I say to get into the practice, Your Majesty. All the same, you should remain below, for it would not do to have your cousin recognize you. This should appear to be mere piracy, and nothing more."
The scene in the tableau faded, as Thaddeo Novan again swept his hand through the figures. I glanced over at the King, who was nodding absently, as though confirming for himself the events that transpired. Queen Serjeen appeared beside herself with rage; Phrenshaw and Paleem looked merely stunned.
Novan smiled ruefully, as though witnessing the putting down of an injured horse. "So you see, my visitors, there was a little scheme - some high stakes castle politics - that assured Abret the kingdom and allows you to live as the royalty you are. Unfortunately, Princess Disproul's ship somehow was lost on the way to the island where it was to be delayed, and she never did appear to congratulate her cousin at his coronation. I trust you all realize the importance to you of keeping his participation in such a plan a secret, as the cardinals and the populace might not view the current royal family with such affection if they became aware of such manipulation of the throne."
Serjeen's anger and disgust was tangible. "Novan," she barked, "I would see more of this event. Please do whatever you must to place these ships and that day back before our eyes."
Novan simply shrugged helplessly. "Your Highness, I am afraid that I cannot. I am no wizard. It is only by luck and numerous unsuccessful trials that I have, with the aid of some ancient texts, been able to bring before you these few events. I cannot control the jewels so as to continue the story." The Queen looked skeptical, but obviously could think of no way to catch the dark-eyed man in his untruth.
I blurted, "Perhaps someone else can do so." All eyes turned to me, and I flushed at the intensity of the emotions stirring in the room, now directed at me. I turned to Lindea, who remained standing beside the table, her dressed still shredded so as to expose much of her smooth, tawny skin, including the hint of the areole of her generous, firm left breast. Her hands were still shackled, joinded by a thick, rust encrusted chain. "Lindea - if you indeed are the rightful monarch of the gypsies, you should by the powers you inherited have control over the jewels. Concentrate on the scene that we just witnessed and see if you can continue its recital."
Lindea stared at me as though I had just requested that she grow wings and fly from the castle, but stepped up to the table slowly. Novan snorted in disgust and looked around to see if others shared his belief that this effort was doomed to futility, but all eyes were locked on the dusky beauty, mesmerized by her proud carriage and her determined and fiery dark eyes.
Lindea closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration. After a few seconds, she released her breath in frustration and looked at me with pleading eyes. "Master Jaze, I sense much of the power of the jewels, but without practice or guidance, I do not see how I can direct my thoughts to create a picture of what you seek to see."
Novan threw his hands up. "You see, she has no powers. I think we are just not going to be able to see..." The King broke in, "Yes, I think Thaddeo has a point, as it seems that the maid just can't..."
Serjeena waved him to silence and peered into his guilt- riddled eyes. "Abret, my husband" -- the last word almost spat in mocking disdain - "if you wish to continue as an ally of my father and his subjects, you will not interfere." The Queen nodded for me to continue.
I bent and stared into the eyes of the lovely gypsy. "Lindea, you can bring it to us if you concentrate on those events, on that day and hour. Remember the two boats, and the woman we know to be on the larger of the two. Feel the cool morning sea air tugging at the cloaks of the crewmen." Lindea closed her eyes, and soon smiled in satisfaction. A flicker of blue ocean and white sails appeared above the jewels.
Phrenshaw cried out, "Yes, I think you've just about managed it."
I continued describing the scene - its sights and likely smells. Seized with a sudden inspiration, I began wordlessly singing - little more than humming - the tale as though playing my flute. I sang of creaking masts' timbers and crashing waves, of the sailors' chanties, of the hopes of returning to ones' homeland, and of the joyous faces of children upon finally meeting their father.
Suddenly, the tableau sharpened, and we were given a view of an interior ship's cabin, obviously from the larger and newer of the two boats. In a well-furnished cabin, the still-beautiful Disproul, clad in a heavy gown to ward off the sea's chill, sat up in the cramped berth and swung her legs over the edge. She glanced back at two small forms nestled under the thick quilt, and then lightly leaped from the bed. Cries erupted, apparently from the deck above her head. This scene too faded.
I looked over at Lindea, whose sweat-dotted forehead grimaced in anguish. Her eyes flickered open and looked at me beseechingly. "Oh, Master Jaze, I do not know if I can continue, as I feel terrible things about to occur." Queen Serjeen gently grasped the girl's arm; "My dear, it is important that you continue; please try." Lindea swallowed, and nodded.
I continued my song, of the smaller boat coming alongside as the sun rose to wash over the water-slickened deck. The tableau re-appeared, as tall and heavily-armed Drofnats soldiers quickly swarmed over the rails of the ship bearing Disproul. The sailors in the large wooden ship, either sleeping or engaged in the necessary affairs of sailing, were largely unarmed and quickly overwhelmed. Two who fought were impaled on the Drofnats' swords, their corpses flung over the side. The remainder were herded over one side of the ship and forced at knife point into a landing skiff, which the boarders winched over the side and set adrift.
In the corner of the tableau, I noticed a light-brown head emerge from the stairs that rose from below deck. Disproul stepped part way into the morning sun, and then gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Two invaders grabbed her by the arms and yanked her from the stairs and dragged her over before the man who had spoken with Abret earlier in the latter's cabin on the other ship. The man's moustache twitched in delight while he feigned ignorance of her identity.
"Ahhh, we have a real lady aboard. Perhaps she has some riches - a family treasury - to make our raid most profitable." Disproul eyed him warily but said nothing. "Or perhaps, the greatest treasures of all are carried with her at all times..." He ran his rough-hands over her shoulders and down her chest, stopping to rest them on her taut breasts. Her hand quickly lashed out and stung his cheek. His hands dropped away as if burned. Catching himself, and embarrassed that the one blow from a woman could intimidate him, the leader's snarl deepened. "You may well pay for that, you snotty bitch."
Just then, Disproul's eyes widened as her gaze locked onto a sight on the far ship. Following her eyes, I couls see a dark head peeking from behind one the the rotting masts of the Drofnats' ship. The leering leader caught her gaze and the soundless enunciation, "Abre..." with her startled lips. The man suddenly leapt behind her and pulled both arms behind her back, pinning her wrists together in his large left hand. He then looked over her shoulder at the young Abret, face flushed with embarassment.
Her attacker's free hand rose from his waist. The morning sun's glint revealed a long curved knife poised over the woman's head. The attacker was not looking at Disproul, however, but rather at Abret; his face derided Abret for his stupidity, and the menacing knife informed the Prince that his throne now lay at risk if the woman lived to tell of his intra-family treachery. Young Abret's mouth opened to begin a horrified protest, but no words came out. He tried again, but failed to speak. Finally, with eyes pleading at Disproul's for forgiveness, the young sovereign sadly turned away in acquiescence, and before the princess could react, the knife swung down in a flashing arc. Blood gouted from the neck of the now dead woman.
From the stairway through which Disproul had stepped just moments before rose a child's terrified scream. A small girl of perhaps three years, with dark curls, rushed forward at the assailant. The man intercepted the child and roughly grasped her by the armpits, raising her to his face. Just then she was followed from belowdecks by a young boy of the same age, though slightly taller and with somewhat lighter-colored hair, who apparently was alerted by the girl's screams. As the lad raised his head and all were given a clear view of the boy, I started, for his features were somehow hauntingly familiar to me. Behind me, I heard a female voice, likely that of Serjeena, mutter "Oh, my god," as though she did recognize it. Two of the boarding attackers quickly intercepted the boy and literally threw him back down the staircase.
Disproul's slayer shook the small bundle of dark curls now clutched in his hands. The girl continued to shriek and try to twist away. As she did, her face turned toward me, and I heard myself gasp. I did recognize this face. It could be none other than that of of a young Rebca, the maidservant to Princess Paleem!
In the tableau, the murderer slapped the young girl into sobbing quiescence with a quick smack, as though wreaking vengeance for the slap received moments before from the woman he had killed. "Listen, you little bitch. You will shut up now, and if I or anyone else hears another sound out of you at any time for the rest of your life I will find you and slit your throat just like I did your mother's!" The girl's sob broke off suddenly. She remained hanging in his arms, her mouth and eyes wide open with a soundless wail of agony and fear. The man literally threw the child, young Rebca, at the nearest one of his attacking legions, who barely caught the girl before she would have struck a railing and tumbled overboard.
At that moment, a cry came from halfway up the rigging. "Milord, there is an approaching ship, and its sails appear to bear the crest of the Cardinal!"
The leader of the invading Drofnats muttered a curse. Swiveling his head as though to regain his bearings, he barked out commands for the boarding party to gather together on the deck. "We have only a moment to get our ship out of here before this new ship spots us. Leave those two children down below; they can't identify anything and will slow down this new ship if it decides to stop us. And for heaven's sake don't tell our client on the ship that we found children here; he's weak-livered enough as it is."
"Jaze, look out!" An unfamiliar female voice pierced the dungeon and the tableau winked out. By instinct I whirled just in time to see the blade of a heavy axe hefted by Novan arcing toward my head. I dropped to a squat and the sharp iron weapon whistled over my head, missing it by inches, and nearly struck Paleem. The blade's heavy weight threw Novan's center of gravity off to the side. Placing my hand on the floor for a base, I swung a kick around onto the side of the man's knee. With a scream, he fell heavily. Before he could rise, I scrambled to my feet and kicked him in the face, my instep planting itself neatly at the point of his jaw. Novan crumpled to the floor on his back.
Two of the Drofnats guards rushed over and grabbed me from behind, while a third pulled his sword and rested the tip against my throat. I could see his bicep clench in prelude to a backpull needed to drive the sharpened point through my Adam's apple.
"Enough!" The King's voice bellowed. The guard hesitated, as though measuring his chances of getting away with the completion of his stroke and insisting that the King's command came too late. Finally, he dropped the sword, and the two other guards released my arms. The King strode over to me, and as though addressing the walls themselves, intoned, "There will be no more killing for my throne, miserable seat that it is."
I stared at the King, all the while resisting the racing of my mind. If Rebca was the daughter of the King's cousin who was murdered but who could have been the Queen....
Abret walked heavily over to Queen Serjeena, whose eyes were brimming with tears of sadness and revulsion. After an emotional inner struggle, he managed to look into her face. "My wife, my queen; I know that ours was a marriage arranged of politics and the joining of territories. Still, I have given you children and the throne that my father promised you would be ours to hold jointly. Now you know the terrible secret that has haunted me for so long. And now, I know that there are others who live who are more entitled, and more worthy, to wield the sceptre of our kingdom than I. Even if those who viewed this recounting today were held to silence, the joining of the jewels has brought the powers of the mages back to the land, and somehow the word would leak out, like water from an uncaulked bucket. Were I to maintain the throne over the righteous abhorrence of the people, the name Abret and all associated with it would be rendered to a curse, an insult, for any who would carry them."
Tears now welled up in the husky monarch's eyes. He looked down at the floor, and then strode toward the door slowly. The guards fell in beside him. Abret stopped, and turned toward us. "I will be abdicating the throne. I have long contemplated that the sole salve for my tormented soul is a pilgrimage to the ancient holy lands of Berkeer. Perhaps in five or ten years, I can return and serve - as a servant - the new monarch. I can only hope that those who rightly inherit the throne that I usurped will treat my wife and children kindly." He nodded to the guards, who preceded him through the heavy door.
All in the room were stunned and silent, as if frozen in a winter's icebank. Paleem and Lorena stared at Rebca, who clutched her throat. At that instant, I realized that the warning to me of Novan's attack could only have come from Rebca. The ebony- tressed beauty was stunned from her muteness by reliving the very attack which had cost her both her voice and her mother. Lindea stared at Serjeen compassionately, realizing what the loss of her husband and his throne would mean to the woman. Serjeen, oddly, gaped at me. Only Phrenshraw acted, ordering the remaining guards to uncuff Lindea and arrest the groggy, stunned Novan; the guards shuffled uneasily, but finally complied.
Rebca stumbled over to me and grasped my hand. Her newly- found, soft sweet voice murmured, "Oh my, oh my, oh my....." Serjeen came over and awkwardly embraced the two of us, exclaiming, "What an amazing adventure you've had, and will have."
I looked at her, my amazement surely written all over my face. "Your Highness, I'm afraid you have lost me somewhere in here. Adventure?" Serjeen's dark, piercing eyes explored mine, framed as they were in her high, chiseled cheekbones.
She laughed. "You don't understand, do you?" My expression didn't change. "I guess monasteries don't carry very many looking glasses, and we would not recognize ourselves even as we are now from any vantage point other than that from looking straight into a glass."
Serjeen cupped my cheek thoughtfully. "Jaze, that young boy on the boat, the one who rushed to rescue his sister? That boy was you. Why do you think Novan attacked you. Rebca and you were the twins that Disproul bore from the cardinal. Had she been named Queen, you would have been Prince and Princess. What I'm saying is that you and Rebca are the rightful heirs to the throne."
My throat caught, and my heart pounded unmercifully. Only a miracle kept me on my feet as I stared into Serjeena's face, which exposed not a hint of doubt as to her conclusion. I glanced at the faces of the others, who all nodded in silent agreement; they too had seen an unmistakeable resemblance between that boy and me.
Phenshraw stepped forward and clasped my shoulders. "Think about it, boy, er, milord, uh... oh, the hell with it! That you, a mere foundling, should be borne with such physical gifts that one would associate with those whose forebearers had used them to take a throne and carve out an empire: such gifts as athletics, and music and ... I suppose there are others."
He looked around the room, and Lindea nodded, then halted, horrified at her implicit confession. "No, my Prince, it is not that - well, not just that - but I have sensed from him a regal lineage before."
The Prince smiled charitably, and continued. "Recall how the powers of the jewels - at least the clarity of the tableau - increased as you came close to them. And the sound came forth when Rebca joined the group." I thought back, and nodded. "That effect - caused it is said when royalty participate in the jewels' use - was not nearly so strong when my parents or Paleem and I were near. So, it would appear to be clear. The cardinal's vessel - apparently sent out to escort his secret lover - found the abandoned ship and returned with the two foundlings. The cardinal, sensing that the children were his own, could not of course reveal their identities as their very lives would be forfeit, and had them placed in the two settings that he felt were safe for them - a monastery and the castle of the King himself. In his shame for his failure to maintain his own vows, the cardinal went on his own pilgrimage, which eventually cost him his life."
The crone, who had remained silently sitting by the side of the brick-walled room, suddenly stirred and and struggled to her feet, joining us at the table. Her piercing gaze probed at me, and then Rebca. "Yes," she croaked, "these are the children from the boat. The boy, the elder, and then his sister, born minutes later." Lindea, standing with her still-cuffed hands stretched over the glowing jewels as though warming them before a fire's embers, nodded in confirmation.
I turned toward Rebca, my vision blurring with tears. At last, I had a family! We hugged, squeezing each other tight, then simultaneously stiffened, recalling at the same time our amorous trysts two nights previously. I had both fucked and been sucked by my sister! After the initial shock, Rebca started laughing at our embarassment - needless in view of our ignorance of our kinship at the time of our lustful joining. Paleem and Serjeena, who both had been witness to our lovemaking, joined in. A moment later, Lorena's eyes widened with realization, and she too doubled over with laughter. Phrenshraw and Lindea stared at each other in puzzlement.
The prince shook his head and spoke. "I know not of this jest that mysteriously has overcome you all, but we have more pressing matters to attend to." Turning to me, he somberly added. "Jaze, my cousin, it now appears that you are the rightful and, it would seem in view of your steadfast and intelligent pursuit of the villainous Novan, most worthy heir to the throne upon my father's abdication. I stand ready to serve you, Your Highness." With that, Phrenshraw knelt and bowed his head. He motioned to the others to do the same.
My face flushed with realization. The kingdom! It was mine! I was to be the King, and all would serve ME! I envisioned that festivals aplenty could be held at my command, with armies of young maidens, ripe breasted and wet with lust for their monarch, bidden to service me at my every whim.
The image flew through my mind in an instant. I would sit in the tent and watch as sultry maidens on the stage would dance before the assembled royals, but the fairest of the lot would come into my tent only. Jenfeer, the leggy stunner with the blonde braid that extended to the middle of her luscious buttocks, would arrive, and I would ingest through her kiss the sacred aphrodisiac herbs of the priests - as much as I liked! I could almost taste the sweetness of her tongue dueling with my own. At the same time, the young blonde triplets who had serviced Abret would flit around me, disrobing me with tiny, skillful hands, their thin-lipped mouths caressing and sucking at each inch of flesh they expose. My organ began to stiffen as I envisioned three sets of lips wetly touching my hips; as their small hands tugged my embroidered silken breeches over my thighs and down my legs, two sets of lips would clamp onto each side of the shaft and two tiny tongues would lap lightly along the base and over my balls. A third lovely faced frames with the cornsilk hair shared by the sisters would look up at me from the front, and the girl's sky blue eyes would gaze into mine as her tiny mouth lightly sucked at my tip.
After enjoying their ministrations, I would receive the honey-haired Auria, and perhaps start by slaking my lust by prodding at the entrance of her moist tunnel while clutching her magnificently shaped ass. As she had earlier that day, the slender vixen would face away from me and drop into my lap and be impaled upon my stiff shaft. While she rode up and down on my cunt-filling cock, my hands would reach around her slim torso and toy with the perky nipples on her full, rounded breasts. While she rode above me, her dark-haired fellow concubine, the stunning Onassa, would kneel between our thighs and lap at the joining of our sexes, rolling her tongue around Auria's swollen clit and then descending to wash my rod as it emerged from Auria's moist tunnel, and even lave at my balls. Finally, I would be drawn to my release by Auria's clever and skillful pussy muscles caressing me as though they were fingers encased in a silk glove. As my seed spurted from Auria's overfilled love tunnel, Onassa would gratefully suck it in through pursed lips.
After a glass of chilled wine, Charel and her cousin Licia would revive my spent cock with their willing young mouths, and then my eyes would survey the grounds for the next morsel of young flesh who had been recruited for the corps of concubines and maidservants. Any woman would be more than grateful to receive the lustful attentions of her King. What a life it would be!
I looked around and saw that indeed all in the room, even the crone, had knelt before me, eyes locked to the floor - all except for Rebca, whose ebony eyes searched my own uncertainly. Our thoughts, even our very moral values, danced in the shared vision that passed between us. Our hopes, and our duties, were aligned. At that moment, I knew in my heart for the first time that Rebca was indeed my sister, my twin. I smiled at her, and lowered my eyes.
"Please," I called out, "please rise." Everyone did. "The honor you accord tugs at the depths of all men's desires, and to be sure if makes for a terrific fantasy, but it is not my destiny to be King. Whatever may have occurred to my mother" - I nearly choked on the word, having learned of her and then watched her die only moments apart - "Abret has been the King for the past fifteen years and you have been raised as the King's Queen" - I nodded at Serjeena - "and the heirs to his throne. I have been trained to serve meals to the brothers at the monastery here in Speysard. I have no more business being King than I do being a bird or a fish. And, with Abret's abdication, the explanations that would be required for others to accept my presence on the throne would likely rend the kingdom apart."
Rebca was now beaming, and clutched my arm in affection. I turned toward the Prince. "Clearly, the throne should be that of Phrenshaw. On every occasion when he could have been low, or mean, or unmindful of those of lesser station, or taken advantage of his position of authority over others, he has instead shown kindness and insisted that rewards go only to the worthy. I gladly express my fealty to him, and to his family." Looking at Rebca, I added, "...and Rebca and I ask only for the opportunity to continue this service." She nodded her agreement.
Phrenshaw looked almost sheepish in his admiration for my act, and in his gratitude. Serjeen exchanged glances with her children, and she turned back to me. "In giving up your throne, Lord Jaze - and henceforth you will be a Lord, my son will see to that - you only confirm your royal lineage." She arched her neck and kissed me lightly on the cheek, pausing to whisper into my ear, "And have made my blood boil so that I insist that I be permitted to deliver by this evening's end that reward I promised you for your assistance." She smiled meaningfully as she stepped away.
Phrenshaw hugged me now and playfully punched at my shoulder. "Indeed, it will be Earl Jaze and Lady Rebca, and you both will be asked to serve in the Castle. Milord, the skills and ingenuity you have shown over the past few days have convinced me that you shall be my most trusted minister. The joining of the lineages of the royalty and the priesthood has without question created a young man of wisdom and ... well, I'm not sure if holiness is the right word for one so randy; well, in any case, I might not ever permit you to return to the lands I will bestow upon you, so reliant will I be upon your counsel."
He then turned to the luscious, dark Lindea. He slowly knelt before her. Looking into her eyes, he uttered, "Milady Lindea, I have been in your thrall for so long, and pray that you did not think my attentions were simply the dalliances of a prince for a lass who served him. You are in all ways truly of royalty yourself. I ask that you take my hand in marriage, not only to help me rule this Kingdom as my Queen, but to join our peoples and end the second-class status so wrongly imposed upon the gypsies."
Lindea smiled, but certainly did not swoon the way one might have expected from one who heretofore had been a laundress. "But my Prince. Are you ready for marriage? To forsake all others but me?" Phrenshaw's smiled froze, but he nodded. Lindea laughed. "Oh, just as I thought. Well, as long as you're discreet with your attentions and do not neglect me, I will not make this marriage a prison." Phrenshaw's smile resumed at full power. Lindea continued, "Besides, Lindea may have some discreet indiscretions of her own in mind." Her eyes flicked to meet mine momentarily, then returned to his, where they were greeted by his laughing assent. I nearly fainted; in the course of seconds I had been offered the favors of two different queens!
Serjeena interrupted the beaming couple. "This is fabulous! Lindea, you have just the sort of qualities I like in a queen; you don't take any bilgewater from your King. Come with me and I'll explain how a new queen and a queen mother can keep the Kingdom running smoothly. Besides, you need some more regal clothes; your left tit is showing." The two slipped through the door, with Phrenshaw's worried eyes following them.
The Prince turned back to us. "Lorena," he commanded. The disheveled blonde bounced forward, her old flirtatiousness now directed toward the soon-to-be King.
"Yes, Your Discreteness", she giggled, giving her full breasts an extra wiggle. Rebca punched her lightly in the ribs, hoarsely uttering in a stage whisper, "Lorena, it's not polite to address the King with a commoner's cum still on your upper lip." Lorena reddened and quickly rubbed at her lip while we laughed, then bristled as she realized her face was spotless and that Rebca was playing a joke on her.
"Lorena," Phrenshaw repeated, "you will please take care of accomodations upstairs for my cousins Jaze and Rebca. I'm afraid you may have to give up your own chamber for Rebca, as nice as it is, but I'm sure that the concubines will be more than happy to take you in for the nonce. And do see to this esteemed gypsy woman; she too is an honored guest." Lorena gulped, but nodded, slowly. Rebca strode out of the room with Lorena and the old woman at her heels.
Phrenshaw turned to me. "It has been quite a day for us all, and I imagine quite a week for you. I will go upstairs and lend comfort to my father. For all that he may have done, he is my father and a good man, and I will miss him while he is away. I will see you both soon." He turned and left, and suddenly the room, so crowded before, seemed very large with just Paleem and me.
I found my breath hard to find as I turned to stare into the lovely green eyes of the stunning princess. She smiled shyly. I started to speak, stuttered, and then finally made my voice work. "Your Highness, at last we meet. Somehow, I feel I've known you for some time."
Her smile brightened. My heart thereupon lurched, and leapt, and nearly left me. She extended her hand, which my own trembling hand took softly. "Oh, Lord Jaze - or Second Cousin Jaze - whichever seems more comfortable to you. I do seem to know a great deal about you, and what skills you possess. As a counselor to the new King, you would be willing - would you not - to share of those skills with his spinster sister?"
The lightness of my head was nearly set aflame with the fever that rushed through my body. I wanted to hold and squeeze and become a part of this magnificent woman-child, to caress her fiery locks and kiss her soft, ruby-like lips. I stuttered again, and she giggled, and then I recovered. "Oh, my Princess, I gladly would share with you whatever skills I have - and with none other than you - forever and ever, till the cliffs of Solstice Castle have washed into the sea."
Paleema raised her arms and put them around my neck. Her middle finger rubbed lightly at the nape, sending the heated chill of lightning from my head to my feet, with an extra stop or two in my loins. She leaned up, placing her lips close to mine. "Oh, I would not want to harbor for myself alone all of your gifts. That would hardly be fair to you, or others." Her lips pressed against mine, and I felt of a thousand rose petals, each delicately placed, kissing my own two lips. My knees shook, and I pressed her to me to keep my balance.
"Besides," she whispered into my mouth, "I not only want to partake of these gifts. Remember - I like to watch...."

*Trane*

Last modified (12/24/96 14:06:59) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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