Offspring with Queen Mother Pt. 02

"Hard to believe this very man wrote a book about us and our kingdom," Darian thought bitterly, feeling a wave of frustration wash over him.

Silence hang up in the air, only the crackling sounds of woods in the hearth intermittently breaking it.

Darian spoke, his voice heavy with determination. "I intent to follow my king's last will and continue the Serpent-Slayer line... "

As he started to speak, Lokir's eyes barely registered his presence. The counselor seemed more interested in organizing his papers and books than in listening to Darian's concerns.

"With the queen," Darian ended.

Lokir paused and with a swing threw pillars of sheets and books over his table, causing the wine glass to flip over. Suddenly, he was interested.

"So with the queen. Hm," Lokir repeated emotionlessly, surprising Darian. For the first time, Lokir's thoughts were completely unreadable.

"Yes, and I need your help with that," said Darian.

Lokir sat down, picking up his glass from where it had fallen, and began digging the meat out of his teeth with a fish bone. "Interesting," he said cryptically.

"Interesting?" asked Darian, confused about Lokir's reaction.

"It's interesting because it's not the first time I've been asked for something like this, my prince," Lokir replied.

Darian raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, if you had read my book about your history, you would know that the Serpent-Slayers have a lot of experience in this regard," Lokir said.

"King Angus," interrupted Darian, impatiently.

"So you read it. I'm impressed, my prince," Lokir smiled and leaned back in his chair, continuing to use the fish bone.

"And what about the 'untrue rumors'?" continued Darian.

Lokir took the bone out of his mouth and smiled like he'd never smiled before. That was enough of an answer.

"Honestly speaking, many years ago, King Inglud actually intended to share a bed with his mother, Queen Lazerta, as well. He wanted to emulate Angus in everything, so he took that step," Lokir revealed, relishing in the shock on Darian's face.

Darian's eyes widened. Lokir's words hung in the air like a noxious fog, and Darian recoiled from the implications of what he had just heard. "Wait, you're saying that the king... with queen Lazerta?"

Lokir nodded and Darian leaned in, eager to hear more of this tale. "And... did he succeed?"

Lokir's smile was sinister, "Well. It's a long story but... Yeah. they shared a bed only once, and there was a child born from that union, but it's unclear whether it was his seed or not. Regardless, they never engaged in such behavior again."

"What happened to that child?"

Lokir shrugged, "Have no idea. It doesn't matter I suppose..." Lokir smiled again looking at him. "What does matter is that Inglud asked Nome to do the same before the campaign against the barbarians."

"Nome? He asked Nome to share a bed with the queen?" Darian repeated again, looking probably like a fool with open mouth and widened eyes.

"Indeed he did. Hehehehe" Lokir giggled. 'You should have seen the prince's face.""I can imagine," Darian said, his mind still reeling from the bombshell Lokir had just dropped.

"So Nome wasn't really into any of that stuff. He declined and left for war," Lokir took another sip of his wine, some of it spilling onto the table. He set the bone aside and leaned in, his gaze fixed on Darian. "But. It seems you are much more worthy of the title 'Serpent-Slayer' than I originally thought. My apologies for underestimating you, my prince."

Darian leaned back in his chair, still trying to process what he had just heard. Nome had never mentioned anything about sharing a bed with Nymira. But then again, would he?

Lokir interrupted Darian's thoughts, "So, Darian Serpent-Slayer. Are you planning to do what you intend to do? Do you intend to share a bed with your queen?"

Darian met Lokir's gaze, his voice steady, "Yes, I do."

"Then it's settled. I'll help you. I've had a plan in place for a long time, just waiting for the right prince to come along. I'll talk to the queen. And you, do me a favor. Talk to Narim. That old..." He wiped his mouth of wine. "The old scoundrel might try to interfere and ruin everything. The king promised to take care of him, but..."

"I'll talk to him. You can be sure he won't mind."

As Lokir spoke, Darian couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. He had found an ally in Lokir. Who could have thought?

"I'll give you a sign when it's time to talk business with the queen," he giggled. "For now, if you'll excuse me, I need to deal with my business right here on my table."

Darian nodded, got up from his chair, and disappeared out the door.

It was amazing how everything he'd heard had turned his picture upside down. So Inglud had coveted his mother, too, and even slept with her, and then, many years later, offered to do the same to Nome? I wonder if Nymira knew about this. I guess it doesn't matter now.

If Lokir has promised to sort it out, let's hope he will succeed. He hadn't at all expected that the meeting with the counselor would turn out so favorably and successfully for his plans.

After a few minutes Darian appeared before Narim's doors and entered. The old man sat by the hearth, reading a letter from a large pile on his table. Unlike the sparse chambers of Lokir, Narim's study was filled with papers, books, and scrolls carefully arranged in cabinets and bookshelves that lined the room. The table lacked any signs of food, but the room was filled with a pleasant aroma of herbal ointment.

"Ah, my prince," Narim said, looking at the newcomer through his spectacles.

"No need for formalities," Darian closed the door firmly behind him, making sure no one was following him, and adjusted his doublet. "I've come to discuss business."

Narim carefully wrapped up the letter he was reading, but didn't put it on the table. Instead, he looked Darian over with his colorless eyes.

"Before we begin...I received a letter," the old man began in his slow, aged voice, exhaling deeply.

"A letter?" Darian asked, surprised. He came closer and felt the warmth of the fireplace on his face. He already knew the answer to his question, but was afraid to admit it. "From Nome?" Darian barely managed to utter the name, and Narim's slow nod dispelled all doubts.

The old man unfolded the letter and read it from beginning to end.

"I deeply mourn the death of our king and am aware of my right to the throne. However, at the moment, I cannot inform you of any good news. I have been severely injured on the battlefield, and our enemies have almost breached one of the last lines of defense. I will return as soon as I am able. Protect the queen. Nome."

The advisor slowly rolled up the worn letter and placed it on the table as if it were a precious artifact.

"It can't be..." Darian muttered in disbelief.

Narim answered with a resigned sigh, removing glasses from his eyes and spreading his hands to the side. "Well, apparently it can," he said. "Nome has confirmed his right to the throne with this letter, and he is now the future King of Incuria."

Darian's heart sank at the news.

No one must stop me from getting the queen. Not even my brother.

"Does anyone else know about this but us?" he asked.

"No one. Only us," Narim replied, folding his hands in his lap.

The two men were silent for a while, each lost in thought. Finally, the old man wanted to speak, but Darian interrupted him.

"He won't be back anytime soon," Darian said. "There is no telling when Nome will return or what will happen to the kingdom by then. Can we leave Incuria without a king for that long?"

"What else can we do? Circumstances are stronger than we are. We will have to wait for Nome to return and make sure that the kingdom will not fall by then." Narim concluded.

Darian sank down into the comfortable, cushioned high chair across from the advisor. "My friend Narim, for many years you have bailed me out. I have always known I could rely on you for something. And now I have a final favor to ask of you... Destroy this letter."

Narim's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Destroy it?" he repeated softly. "You are asking me to commit treason. The punishment is death."

Darian leaned forward. "No punishment if I am king," he said firmly.

Narim was silent for a while, his thoughts racing. Finally, he slowly rose from his chair with the letter in his hands. "To go against the crown... But do I go against it?" he muttered to himself. "Nome is wounded, and it is unknown if he will return at all. We need a king now, not in the uncertain future."

He turned slowly toward Darian. "I do this for the sake of the kingdom...my friend," he said. His hand with the letter slid down, and the letter seemed to fall out of his old fingers. The yellowed paper sank straight into the mouth of the hearth roaster, where tongues of flame quickly destroyed all its contents.

Darian's eyes followed as the letters and words on the parchment turned to black ash before him.

"Thank you, Narim," he murmured.

The old counselor sank into his seat, sighing heavily as he considered the gravity of what they had just done. "Is it worth notifying the Queen about Nome?" he asked, his voice heavy with apprehension.

Darian shook his head, "No, I don't think we should. I'll talk to her...actually, I wanted to talk to you about the queen."

Narim rubbed his eyes wearily and fixed his gaze upon the young prince, trying to discern the purpose of the visit. "Go on," he prompted.

Darian took a deep breath, bracing himself for the words to come. "I intend to carry out the king's last will...and breed," he stated, the discomfort evident in his voice.

"With the queen," Suddenly Narim interrupted,

"Yes," He said simply, unsure of how to proceed, surprised by that interruption.

The counselor fixed his gaze on prince. "Darian, I want you to tell me honestly. I just did you a favor, and now I'm asking you to do the same. Tell me. Did you murder the king?"

For a tense moment, the two men locked eyes, each searching the other's soul for a sign of deceit. "I still can't forget about the key I gave you..."

"I swear to you, I had nothing to do with it," Darian interrupted him, his voice steady. But the counselor's doubts lingered.

"I understand," the counselor said, his expression softening as he seemed to grasp the truth without further words. "Regarding the queen, I will only approve your...interrogations...under one strict condition."

"And what is that?"

"You won't 'breed' with her," the counselor spoke the words slowly and deliberately, leaving no room for misunderstanding. "You will not make offspring with the queen. Do you understand?"

Darian hesitated for a second, taken aback by the counselor's blunt request. But after a moment of consideration, he gave a resigned nod. "Fine."

"I want you to promise me, Darian. Promise me!"

"I promise, God. I promise I won't make offspring with queen-mother," he vowed.

There was a pause before the counselor spoke again. "Good. Then we have an agreement. That is all.  Remember, you will be closely watched during your interrogations."

======

Days turned into weeks, and people started to expect Darian to become a king. The kingdom was abuzz. And yet there were those who believed in Nome's return as rumors about him beeing alive grew.

It was a day like any other when Darian received a word from Lokir that everything was ready. The Queen was waiting for him in her chambers.

"So, that's it?" he thought, his mind racing with disbelief. "Have I really won her hand in marriage just like that?"

"Come in," Nymira's voice floated through the door after a short knock.

Darian entered to find his mother standing by the window, her usual green robes swishing softly around her ankles. The room was warm and familiar, much as it had been on the King's birthday.

"I came to talk. I know I made a promise to you..." Darian slowly rounded the bed, but did not come closer. He made sure little Tartuf wasn't by the hearth; Gertrude must be busy with the child.

"I know what you came to talk about," Nymira's voice was muffled and calm, with a hint of irritability, as always. "Lokir told me everything."

"He did?" Darian tried to look surprised, barely able to hide his amusement.

"He spoke of the old Serpent-Slayers tradition of a mother sharing a bed with her King son."

Nothing in the queen's demeanor or words gave away her attitude toward all that had been said. Is she annoyed? Is she angry? Or is the queen agreeable and willing to obey her fate?

"So?" he asked, unable to decipher her thoughts.

"So it's time to put an end to this abominable tradition," Queen Nymira declared, her voice firm and resolute. "And besides, as the king's first son, Nome never stooped to such base acts."

Darian scoffed. "And look where it's gotten him and the king."

The queen's plump lips and eyebrows curved in anger at her son's disrespectful tone. "How dare you speak of your father and brother in such a way?"

Darian stepped forward, circling his mother as she watched him warily. "Mother, I know you have doubts, but you must remember what you told me. You are a strong, fertile, and beautiful woman. My seed is as potent as King's, and you are the only one capable of producing Serpent-Slayers."

Nymira's eyes widened in shock as she realized where her son was headed. "Darian, no," she whispered, taking a step back.

But Darian was undeterred. "In the name of king's memory and for the sake of the kingdom, I shall continue what he started. Do not make the mistake of denying me."

As he spoke, Darian's words carried a weight that seemed to fill the room. Nymira felt her resolve begin to falter... But still, the thought of bearing her own son's child was a daunting prospect.

Realizing the true nature of Darian's intentions, Nymira turned away."I had hoped you'd abandoned those foolish ideas that led you astray before the king's death. Get out. I don't want to see you, Darian. Nome will return, and he will be the true king the kingdom deserves."

"As you wish," Darian sneered as he left the room, his anger palpable.

Before he could depart, however, Nymira had one final revelation to share. "The king and I were together when he died, and I am already pregnant with a child. I have no need for another one."

CHAPTER 9. NOW OR NEVER

He spent the rest of day in thoughts. He can't take her by force, it's just doesn't seem right and it shouldn't be like that. And, by the way, Narim clearly messaged him what happened with last person who tried to rape the Queen.

Darian couldn't shake the memories of the way Nymira had reacted to his words. The way she had paused, considering the proposition. Was it possible that she was willing to agree, unless it was all a figment of his imagination?

Darian spent hours lost in thought, replaying every moment of his interaction with the queen. The subtle nuances of her gestures and expressions haunted him, leaving him with a desperate hope that his desires were not in vain.

But for now, all he could do was wait and hope that fate would somehow bring them together in a way that was both safe and mutually satisfying.

The moon rose high outside the window, the middle of the night approaching. It was drizzling outside. Darian carefully pulled the small tobacco pipe away from his face and stared into the moon. As he turned to light a pipe, a shadowy figure in a black coat sprang from the shadows, sword drawn.

Darian's heart froze as the attacker lunged towards him. He struggled to defend himself, parrying the blows as best he could. It wasn't until the assailant paused for a moment that Darian recognized the face beneath.

"Braga?"

The bodyguard's eyes burned with a fierce intensity as he leveled his sword at the young prince. "I have dreaded this moment for years, Your Highness. Don't you remember my promise? With the king gone, the time has come for me to rid our kingdom of your weakness once and for all."

Darian's mind raced as he dodged another blow from the sword. He stood his ground, his sword flashing in the dim candlelight as he parried Braga's strikes with all his might.

With a powerful shove, Braga threw Prince Darian against the cold stone wall. Darian stumbled, his head connecting with a brick which dislodged from the wall and clattered to the ground. Pain erupted through his skull, but he had no time to recover as Braga loomed over him, sword raised high.

"The spy gave me permission to kill you, Darian," Braga spat. "I'm sorry, but you wouldn't make a good king anyway"

But in that moment, something sparked within Darian's mind. He recognized the fallen brick at his feet - a brick from his own hidden masonry. Without a second thought, he seized the dagger he had used to kill the king and hurled it with precision at Braga's neck.

The blade pierced the full neck of the queen's bodyguard, sinking deeply and causing blood to spurt out. Braga's sword clattered to the ground as he grasped at his neck, eyes wide with shock and pain. As Braga stumbled back, Darian seized the fallen sword and thrust it into opponent's heart, determined to end the battle once and for all. With a final, desperate surge of strength, he hurled bodyguard out the window, watching as the man's body plummeted down into the abyss below.

"I am the King now. Long Live King Darian."

He rushed to the doors, tightly but silently closing it behind, he went to the queen.

Torchlight illuminated the narrow corridor as he made his way towards the queen's chambers. The whiff of draught and the flickering light of torches followed him as he moved deeper into the castle.

Finally, he arrived, only to be met by two guards.

"I'll keep an eye on the queen to make sure she's in no danger," Darian stated.

The two looked at each other, pondering what had been said. Nevertheless, no one resisted as he entered, closing the door tightly behind.

As Darian entered, the night fire whistled dimly in the hearth, saturating the room with warm air mixed with the scent of mint. Tartuf's crib was empty, which meant that the child must have been hidden somewhere safe for the night.

Prince's heart ached as he approached the bed where his Mother lay. He couldn't help but notice the gentle rise and fall of her mesmerizing breasts, her blonde hair spilled like a river of silk across the pillow, framing her face in a halo of softness. The light of the moon filtering in through the window cast a gentle glow across her skin, highlighting the delicate lines of the cheekbones and lips. Even in sleep, she exuded a regal elegance that left Darian in awe.

His gaze fixed on the swell of her breasts visible beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.  The unexpected sight caught him off guard, causing his heart to beat faster with a sudden rush of desire.

With trembling hands, Darian slipped off his cloak and placed it on a nearby fur-trimmed chair. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before making his way towards mother's bed, shrouded in darkness. However, Nymira stirred from her sleep, her eyes gradually adjusting to the faint light. She could make out the silhouette of her son standing beside her.

"Don't..." she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper."We can't do this..."

He gently threw off the blanket, exposing the view of Mother's entire body. His breath quickened as he climbed onto the bed, consumed by a rush of lust. Her gray eyes stared at him in the dark, the look on her face drove him crazy.

"I am the king now. You can't say no to me. We do this for the kingdom, Mother," he growled, moving his dick closer and climbed on top of her. "Your body belongs to me now."

Nymira's heart ached with conflicting emotions. She knew this was wrong, but the feeling of Darian's body against hers was overwhelming, and the power dynamics between them seemed to blur in the heat of the moment.