A Perfect Elven Princess

"Why haven't I seen any menfolk within the castle interior?"

The question burst out of the elven princess unbidden, surprising even her as it spilled forth from her rosy lips. It was something she had noticed in passing but not given thought of giving voice to until now.

Fortunately the Queen Mother did not seem overly bothered by the abrupt inquiry.

"No man besides Prince Seberin is tolerated to reside within these hallowed halls. They may come to pay him due homage and dwell a short while in his unrivaled magnificence but ultimately the men of the court stay in the noble quarter outside the castle walls." The Sorceress replied casually, still staring up at the painting. "Many find his masculine presence... overwhelming if they witness it too long."

At least that explained the entirely female staff and all-woman amazonian royal guard but the answer only raised more questions...

"You will remain here in the palace for two days as I assess your suitability as a potential bride for my sweet Seberin." Annarosa continued and it didn't sound like a request. "You will receive treatment and accommodations as befits your station but will not wander the palace without an escort. You will make yourself available to me at any time, anywhere, over that period within reason as was agreed upon in the betrothal contract."

Just what in all the nine hells was detailed in the agreement her father accepted on her behalf? Erulia could almost hear Idril grinding her teeth behind her and silently vowed to herself that she would find and comb over a copy of the infernal contract.

"We have brought gifts, Highness. Along with our personal effects and accouterments..." She began again but the Sorceress had already moved onto the next painting further down the hall.

"My late lord and husband was something of a toad, but he honored his nuptial vows and rewarded my loyalty with our beloved son before succumbing to the wasting sickness." The mature beauty mused dreamily, ignoring the elven princess and looking up at the framed canvas with a dreamy expression. "I realized instantly that we would never be parted from one another. Every day of his young life, I charted my perfect boy's path to glory, guided his growth and cultivated his many strengths as a true, loving mother should."

Erulia stepped cautiously up to her side again and glanced at the painting. It featured the Queen, not looking a day older than she did now, dressed in a sumptuous gown of midnight satin that hugged her full fertile curves and barely contained her thick breasts as she looked adoringly down at a gangly preteen with unruly brown hair and grin full of crooked teeth standing at her side.

That was the Rock of Bathard? The champion of countless tournaments and terror of the battlefield? Hopefully he had grown into something more admirable in the intervening years...

Erulia hardly noticed as one of the ever-attentive maids refilled her teacup before taking a thoughtful sip of the calming brew.

"Surely not every day." Idril piped up, from behind her. "It is no secret that the Crown Prince has spent months away from home on campaign, engaged with the orcish hordes to the south and combating the pirates fleets of the Opal Isles."

The autumn-haired elf was cradling a cup and saucer of her own now.

"Would you accuse me of lying, little sprite?" Annarosa spun on her with a haughty sneer on her enchanting face. "I was at my precious Seberin's side for every blood-soaked skirmish and battle. Shoring up his victories with my magical talents and supporting him in any way I could."

"There were numberless nights I wept motherly tears over my brilliant son's wounded body even as he demanded that I heal him so he could return to the fight at dawn. Do not question my devotion to an avatar of pure perfection such as him!"

"May his glorious Majesty rule for a thousand years!"

Betrothal arrangement or no, Erulia was just about done with this gorgeous mad woman and her insane cult of skimpily clad followers. The Mithril Spires could endure, as they always had, without an alliance to a human kingdom which was clearly under the thumb of a power-crazed lunatic and her mollycoddled princeling.

But the infamous Blood Rose of Bathard must have read some hint of the Princess's flighty intentions in her horrified expression, because the older woman seized her slender wrist in an iron grip and dragged her up the length of the gallery to the final, largest painting of them all.

"Wa-Wait, unhand me!"

"Look, look!" She cried, gesticulating wildly up at the grandiose portrait. "Gaze upon my darling boy and comprehend his flawless magnificence!"

Despite her alarmed instincts Erulia did glance at it and her fine angular jaw dropped open like a trapdoor. The steaming tea cup fell forgotten to the crimson carpet and rolled at her feet.

A life-sized armored conqueror was displayed before the platinum-haired Princess in classic profile. All shining bronzed muscles, impossibly broad shoulders, wavy chocolate hair and lantern-jawed chin holding a bloody great sword over his handsome head. He was standing atop a dusty hilltop with a broken war camp burning in the distance behind him.

"Is he not the most amazing male specimen you have ever looked upon?" The Queen gushed, dark eyes taking on a fanatically gleam and clutching her hands together beneath her heavy bosom. "My pride and joy! My sweet Seberin!"

"May his glorious Majesty rule for a thousand years." The warrior maids moaned in breathy unison.

Erulia could feel a force pushing at her innate magic resistance but couldn't tear her eyes away from the lifelike image of the Crown Prince. His intense amber glare had that trick some master artists could employ where the painting seemed to be staring right back at the viewer and he was skewering her to the spot like a frightened rabbit.

"Y-yes... very handsome..." The elven Princess stammered out. "A masterpiece."

Her lips and throat felt awfully parched and she wetted them with another sip of the herbal tea as a fresh cup was pressed into her trembling hands. It shook in her delicate grasp and Erulia spilled a little down her dainty chin.

"You are very kind to notice that, dear girl." Queen Annarosa crooned in a pleased voice as she reached out and swiped the dribble of liquid off her face with a long finger. "He is my finest achievement. I think that we may get along after-all."

Erulia had been talking about the portrait, hadn't she?

But the subject of the artwork was also very imposing. Manly in that human way that spoke of boundless energy and the unstoppable drive to leave their mark on the world in the brief time they existed. It was very much at odds with the male elves she had grown up with who tended to be contemplative, slow to take action and might be described as pretty rather than whatever this magnetically attractive Prince was.

By the heavens, it was just a painting and where was Idril? Surely her guardian protector should be doing something about these decidedly odd circumstances they had been thrown into like lost lambs...

With a heroic effort of will, Erulia dragged her eyes from the entrancing image and looked around for her friend.

The beautiful wood elf was still a step behind her but with a wide unblinking hazel stare fastened onto the picture and her soft lips sagging dumbly apart in astonishment.

The golden-haired Princess felt a mild pang of jealousy. Idril was here to defend her, not ogle her prospective husband like a damsel at her first solstice ball.

"Come girls, I will show you to your apartments. They are in the royal wing next to my own." The Queen Mother purred, her mood clearly raised by the visceral reaction both elves had to her obviously pre-arranged display. "You have the afternoon to settle in after your journey and bathe. Take the evening to rest before we continue the interview tomorrow. You will need to be at your best in the morning if you wish to impress me."

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Yes, your Majesty."

They both answered at the same time and Erulia shot her friend a puzzled frown.

Surely Idril didn't presume the Queen's instructions were directed at her?

________________

"By the Sacred Grove, this reads more like a trade agreement than a betrothal contract." Erulia groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as she glared down at the dense leather-bound tome filled with conditions and stipulations open on the reading desk before her. "How could anyone possibly unravel this tangled mess of unreasonable demands and confusing sub-clauses?"

Admitted, it was a very nice reading desk. A silver inlaid construct of ancient walnut varnished to a mirror finish.

The accommodations she and Idril had been led to were sumptuously appointed. Two adjoining rooms of lavish size with large soft beds, warm owlbear fur rugs, rich spider silk draperies and every other conceivable convenience magnanimously arranged for their comfort. There were even tall handcrafted wardrobes filled with luxurious dresses, expensive gowns, daring underclothes and fascinating footwear from the finest artisans the Kingdom of Bathard had to offer.

Which was fortunate because no trace of their luggage or particulars had made an appearance since they arrived at the capitol.

"The Queen makes quite the first impression." Idril remarked, holding up a stiff pair of transparent heels for closer inspection. "Who would wear slippers made out of glass? These are just a crippling accident waiting to happen."

"Oh, you noticed her Majesty did you?" Erulia drolled sarcastically, flipping furiously through pages of illuminated text. "I thought you may have been distracted by the portrait of the Crown Prince, since your tongue was basically lolling out of your mouth at the time."

Speaking of the heir apparent, several more framed likenesses adorned the marble walls of their noble quarters in a multitude of poses and settings.

Prince Seberin astride a thoroughbred stallion galloping down a sandy beach with his long chocolate hair flowing in the wind wearing only tight fitting leather breeches and polished boots, his bare muscular chest glistening wet with ocean spray.

Prince Seberin seated in council with his advisors--all stunningly young and feminine, dressed in scandalously scanty court attire for some reason--as he ponderously rubbed at his stubbled jaw and looked off into the distant future with a weighty expression on his chiseled face.

Handsome Prince Seberin extending a noble hand to help a wounded comrade in arms to their feet amidst a raging battle with fallen foes and broken weapons littering the blood-soaked ground surrounding them. He was portrayed shirtless there too, though it made little sense on the field of war, but detracted not at all from the stirring mood of the captured scene.

"The artistic rendering of the Prince was..." Idril's bashful blush darkened her tanned skin all the way down to her neck, "Distracting, like you said. No, wait, that isn't the right word for it."

"Bedazzling, maybe?" Erulia suggested, looking up from a paragraph detailing strict requirements of the platinum haired Princess's body measurements be sent in advance of their imminent arrival. Ludicrous. "Idril, this whole castle is practically humming with wards and powerful enchantments. I know you can feel it, I can practically hear it!"

It was there on the very edge of her heightened elvish hearing. The slightest whooshing sound that could easily be mistaken for the distant ocean waves breaking on the shores far below them in the port city.

It was more than a little concerning. Erulia took another sip of the herbal tea as she tried to puzzle out the nature of the magic only to find her cup empty. Fortunately one of the attentive maids had left a full pot on a walnut side table.

"Maybe, I don't know, my Lady. Despite my martial training, I do not have your natural aptitude in sensing subtle sorceries. Should I send for your circlet of protection?"

The wood elf only used her title when in public or feeling particularly nervous, and hearing it now made Erulia feel ashamed. She took a deep steadying breath and rose to take her friends hands into her own.

"There is no point. Contractually; we are not allowed magical artifacts while within the palace walls. Or any of our own belongings apparently. We are to be provided for." She said with a sigh and an apologetic bow of her pretty head. "I am sorry for speaking so harshly, Idril. I fear we have been dropped into a hornets nest here with only each other to lean on for support. We must stick together as we always have, forgive me?"

"Of course I do, Erulia." Idril replied with a tremulous smile then looked about at the many portraits covering each wall of the apartment. "They are certainly trying hard to make him appear as appealing as possible though, aren't they?"

"Perhaps a little too hard? As though Prince Seberin might be compensating for something?" The Princess whispered and they both giggled like naughty damsels.

"Don't let the Blood Rose hear you say that, she's obsessed with her own son and would probably curse your lovely ears to fall off!"

"It should help in the interview. All I have to do is praise the human princeling and she'll melt like warm candle wax."

"Shhhh~! Her room is right next door, remember."

That just made them both giggle all the more, the tension between them draining away as though it had never been there at all. They briefly hugged, their toned, slender bodies pressing together before parting again as the good friends they had always been.

"Well, I am fed up with reading for today and exhausted from the journey here." Erulia stated firmly, then looked at the large empty bed with a mite of anxiety. This would be her first time sleeping in an unfamiliar place so far away from home. "Would you sleep in my room... with me tonight? Please, Idril."

"Of course, Erulia." The autumn haired elf agreed, with a gentle smile. "I don't think I want to be alone tonight either. Shall we have one last cup of tea to soothe the nerves and help us sleep?"

That sounded like a fine idea. Erulia nodded her agreement then sat on the edge of the lavish bed as her guardian and lifelong companion went to pour them each a steaming cup.

Had the Queen insisted they both drink the tea or just her? The pointy-eared Princess couldn't rightly recall. It had been a busy day filled with many unexpected twists, shocking reveals and rude confrontations. The finer details hardly seemed important as she yawned and accepted the sweet-smelling cup from Idril.

They were drinking the tea as instructed regardless, that was all that mattered. Nobody could fault them either way.

________________

Erulia was kneeling before a shadowy figure seated upon a grand golden throne.

More accurately, she was pressed up between the wide spread legs of the faceless masculine presence with her knees butting up against the base of the royal seat as her flushed cheeks rubbed against the tight breeches covering his incredibly muscular thighs.

A brutal bulge was testing the tensile strength of the form-fitting fabric only mere inches from her beautiful face and her nostrils flared at the pungent intoxicating scent of warm man flesh.

The Princess's silently working mouth watered and a searing spike of hot arousal racked her small virginal body as the stark outline of an enormous male member uncurled and thickened towards her. Every pulsing vein and hardening ridge of it visible through the stretched thin fabric.

"Is this what you want?"

The voice was deep and gruff.

Erulia's faint heart was beating a mile a minute as her moist pink tongue flicked past her pursed lips as though to taste the phallic protrusion on the air like a cock-hungry baby basilisk. Her dainty hands were clasped behind her back to give the mystery hunk an unobstructed view of her young nubile body and budding breasts as she extended her slender neck to meet the elongating lump halfway.

"You know it is, Baby. Tonight and every night, until you are utterly spent within me!"

The jubilant reply came in a husky, breathy tone that sounded nothing like her own. Erulia's voice was high and clear, like the crisp morning air on an early spring day chasing away winter's frost. This other voice was rich and sonorous as dark melted chocolate, pouring sweet wicked promise over every hissed syllable.

Her confusion was allayed as a rough hand--calloused by many years gripping a sword hilt--ran through her white-gold hair and formed a meaty fist around the intricate braids banding her long flowing tresses back from her beautiful face.

"Pl-please..." She begged in a hot whisper, sounding more like herself. "Please, I need... I need..."

What did she need exactly?

Erulia wasn't uneducated in the base mechanics of physical affection but had no practice in the marital act. She was pristine, untouched and wholly unprepared for the fiery tumble of emotions that seemed to accompany the carnal moment.

She was excited--no, she was aroused. Awfully aroused if the wet heat gathering in her unsullied elfhood was any indication. Also a little scared, frightened by the undeniable might of this masculine presence and her anxious desire to please him despite her woeful lack of experience.

By the heavens, she was naked too, Erulia just then realized. Naked and slick with a feverish sweat that coated her pale little body as the strong hand palming her pretty skull dragged it up against the rigid prominence tenting enshadowed figures' breeches.

"Then take it, take it all!"

Moaning like a two copper doxie, the Princess smeared her moist lips and velvet-soft cheeks against the shrouded shaft. The radiating heat of it baked her blemishless skin through the too-tight clothing and she could almost taste the salty savour of it on her lapping tongue. She kissed her way up and down the side of girthy bulge, only stopping at the knobby end to try and vacuum more of the heady flavor out through the overtaxed fabric.

The tight grip in her lustrous golden tresses guided Erulia. Pulling roughly and pressing her harder against the engorged outline until her cute nose was buried in the thick muscle of his thigh. It made her feel frail and terribly breakable to be manhandled easily by such a powerful figure.

The knife-eared Princess could feel wet lines of her hot honey trailing down her quaking thighs as she shook like a storm-blown leaf in a short, sudden fit of release.

The unexpected rush of sinful sensation made Erulia groan around her not-quite mouthful of rock-hard manhood. She hadn't even touched herself, cumming from the prurient pleasure of being used so forcefully and somehow knowing that, if she continued to please this masterful male, she would receive even greater erotic rewards in the future.

She had a taste, a sniff, a single sparing sample of licentious delights and she was already hungry for more.

Much, much more...

"Yes, yes! Give it to your Queen. Ruin me with that perfect dick, mark my womb over and over with your molten masculinity!" The rich, husky voice wailed ecstatically.

Queen?

Was Erulia this wonderful man's queen already?

There was the shining throne and the towering figure was seated on it. So, if she was here--naked at his feet and worshiping his huge kingly cock--it only made sense that she must be married to this royal stud. There was no other reasonable explanation for the lust-driven way she slurped and mewled for more of her husband's noble manhood.

Anything else would be unthinkable. Untenable. She was a princess after all...

Her trembling body began to shake again but not from the building pleasure. Someone was jostling her shoulder.