The Prince's Bride Ch. 01

The two Parliament leaders, several wealthy landowners, Captain Horace, and the four attendants were the only others at the feast, and only two of the latter—Myrtle and Nualia—had chosen to sit down. The other two were chatting with the guards and kitchen staff, Amanya giggling as Lleva and a chef shared some apparently very funny joke.

At his call for a toast, he noticed the two heads of Parliament and one of the landowners give a jolt. They were rather red-faced, now that he thought about it. Perhaps he wasn't the only one drinking more than he'd planned. Perhaps they were having trouble staying discrete when sitting right next to the witty Myrtle and demure Nualia, who had proven gifted conversationalists.

Or perhaps they were unused to women from the Wildflower Kingdom, who occupied a much more prominent place in their own society and were happy to be flirty and forward. But they all raised their glasses for the toast.

Jenne smiled widely. "It pleases me to hear you say such things, My Prince," she said, sipping her wine. "And your people's loyalty really does do you credit."

"Yes." Felic nodded automatically as he noticed how brightly one of the kitchen staff was blushing. Amanya was being awfully flirtatious, judging by her posture. "I mean, I am blessed by the faith of my people. Is it not that way where you come from?"

Jenne giggled. "No, no. Of course, orders are followed, but never with such dedication. And I... well, my situation is different."

"Seventh in line." Felic shook his head sadly. "It must be frustrating."

"Oh, in many ways it is freeing!" Jenne beamed. "The lack of responsibility has always been wonderful, I say—no expectation that I take court with the rest, little talk of meetings, or decorum, or political marr..." She trailed off, biting her lip. "... matters. But... well, being seventh carries other drawbacks."

She reached up and ran a finger over her pointed ears, almost unthinkingly.

Jenne was nothing like how Felic had expected. She was beautiful, she was clever, she was kind to her servants as well as his (she had insisted they be allowed to sit at the table if they wished, a custom Felic found bizarre but wonderful, and totally different from how things were run here regularly)... but he could see pain there, too.

Jenne was an extremely powerful witch—she had already demonstrated her powers to the guards, showing off fireballs and beautiful lighty shows, conjuring up the smells and spices of her homeland to liven up the meals—but somehow, she seemed vulnerable, and Felic no longer feared her.

She kept feeling her ears, biting her lip. Felic swallowed. Her own family treated her like a danger, but she reminded him more of the Beast from the old fairy tales his caretakers had read him—the fearsome creature who transformed in the end to a beautiful human to be wed, soothed and comforted by their faithful lover.

Only in the stories told in Rainvale, it was always a male Beast and a faithful peasant girl. And poor Jenne didn't need to transform. She just needed love. Gentleness.

Instinctively, he wanted to let her hold him, to let her protect him so he could comfort and protect her. She was so small, and yet so powerful, and yet so... so..

Felic realized he was staring at Jenne with a dumb, glazed-over look. She was staring back at him, her smile slowly recovering. "M-My Prince?" she asked.

"Mm." Felic nodded quickly. "Ah. I believe we're out of wine." He glanced for a servant. "Jasper?"

"Oh, Felic, let my attendant get it. Your servants deserve to relax a little bit—I mean, they've been standing stiff as planks all dinner." Jenne beckoned to the attendant Jasper was talking to. "Lleva, dear?"

Felic noticed Jasper stiffen slightly in offense, and he knew the man was offended. "Sir," he said quickly, "perhaps I should accompany her, to be sure she finds her way. The cellar is dark."

Felic considered it for a moment. He could tell Jasper wanted to reassert the servants' place—they resented Jenne's implication of overwork—but he could also tell that Jasper had been practically drooling over Lleva all supper, and he was watching that swaying ass as it departed for the cellar door.

"Actually, maybe I'd best go," Felic said, rising. "I have a particular wine in mind, but I can't recall the name." He smiled and bowed to Jenne. "Besides, I think the cool air would do me some good. It, um, appears to be a little bit hot in here."

Jenne giggled at his feeble excuse for the blushing. Her dimpled cheeks grew rosier.

Felic gave Lleva a sparing smile, but she paid him little mind, already bustling to the cellar. In truth, while he could use some fresh air, he really, really wanted to avoid any ugly indiscretions between his staff and Jenne's. He trusted Jenne, but he did not necessarily trust her attendants, or the Wildflower Kingdom. A lot could be learned from a waiter begging for a touch.

Besides, such a scandal would make Rainvale look... easy. Especially as Lleva wasn't even a formal royal servant.

"So, what does the bottle look like?" Lleva asked casually as she opened the wine cellar door. Felic's eyes narrowed, noticing that Jasper had given her the key to it. Careless indeed, Jasper, he thought irritably.

""It's..." Felic paused, uncertain. He just had to think of one of the bottle brands, but in truth, he hardly ever drank wine. He only rarely went to the wine cellar itself.

As they embarked down the spiral staircase, the castle lamps lit automatically, eliciting a slight impressed, "Ooh," from Lleva. Did the Wildflower Kingdom really not have self-lighting lamps? Felic knew they didn't exactly have a castle like his, but it was strange to imagine how differently they ran things.

As he was distracted, the redhead shot him a smug look. "Is his Highness unsure what he wants?"

Felic's breath caught. For a moment, he struggled for words, which only made her orange eyes grow wider, her eyebrows arch higher. Nobody ever, ever talked to him like that. Not even the castle. Not even Horace. She was... mocking him.

To his further embarrassment, Felic realized he had no idea how to respond. Did he reprimand her? Was he reading too much into it? Where Jenne's informality seemed friendly and familiar, Lleva... her tone was unlike any he'd ever heard directed at him. By anyone.

And, he thought, heart racing, he still hadn't answered her.

"It has grapes on it," he blurted.

"Ooh." Lleva nodded, turning to face him as she descended the stairs. The lamps lighting behind her were almost mesmerizing, flicking to life every few seconds as she wound down into the depths of the castle. "Grapes. Are these grapes as green as your eyes, m'lord?" Her eyes glimmered, crimson as her hair. "Or as red as mine?"

"P-Purple," he stammered, nearly tripping. Oh, perfect, he was going to trip and crush her to death.

These Wildflower Kingdom women were all so short compared to people of Rainvale. Lleva was half his size. So why was he terrified of her?

"Purple," she repeated, licking her lips. Her purple-painted lips, as richly violet as the sapphires studding his diadem. "And are these grapes ripe and plump?, m'lord?"

"Um." Felic blinked. Hadn't... hadn't her lips been red earlier? It was a trick of the light. "Well, um. Naturally." Calling him 'lord', too. It was inappropriate. He was a prince. 'Highness' would do, but 'my lord'...

"Mm." She pouted. Her lips suddenly seemed just a little bit fuller, plumper. Or she just wanted him to notice them now. Or, Felic thought, heart racing, he just noticed because he was a pervert and she was going to notice his slight bulge any second now... "Nice and plump and soft. But where can we find that, m'lord?"

They came to the bottom of the stairs as Felic struggled for an answer, and Lleva giggled, turning away, swinging her hips with every step. Felic's eyes were trained on those hips as though she'd wound a spiderweb around them and tied it to his neck. He followed her, heart pounding with nerves.

The wine cellar was a vast complex, full not only of drinks, but of all kinds of stockpiles of foods and spices both common and exotic. In the event of a siege by the Succubus Queen, it was critical to be well-supplied.

As Lleva stopped to look over several racks of wine, humming thoughtfully, Felic took the opportunity to slink away in shame.

He had never been flirted with, and never so brazenly, before today. Jenne's flirtation had made him feel wonderful, good and soft and bashful and... lovely. But Lleva's flirtation made him feel dirty. Wicked. Faithless. Weak.

He hurried down the rows, searching for a bottle that would satisfy what he'd told Lleva. In hindsight, he wished he'd said the bottle had a farm animal on it, because gods, what was up with all these farm animals? Who saw a picture of a chicken or a pig and said, ah, wonderful, time to get drunk on this?

He wandered through the stacks, eyes darting from bottle to bottle with a strange sense of urgency, as if Lleva was about to leap out of the shadows at any moment. Finally, he found a bottle with a picture of a curvy goblin maid holding up a clump of red grapes, a coy smile on her face. A bit lascivious, but it would do. Felic reached for the bottle.

The lamp above him flickered slightly.

"Ooh, what a pretty bottle," purred a voice behind him. "Such a nice label. Are you... trying to tell us something, 'My Prince'?" She made her voice a mocking rendition of Jenne's.

Felic's breath came in unevenly as he tried to turn around, only to feel... feel...

Hot breath on his neck. Lleva was on her tippy-toes, moaning sweetly in his ear, throaty gasps that made his cock throb. "Red like my eyes. Pretty, pretty eyes."

Felic found himself speechless. He felt her hand slipping along his side, snaking beneath his pants... oh gods no no no no... But he couldn't say anything. He didn't say anything. He knew what she was about to do, and for some reason, everything just felt so nice and fuzzy... smelled so sweet and smokey...

"I was going to play with little Jasper," Lleva cooed, her soft, plump lips smacking lovingly on his neck, her hand caressing his thigh. "But you wanted to come down here, didn't you? My Prince."

"Um. I." Felic tried to tell himself to jerk away, begged himself to push her off. To be used like this, to be—to be a mere substitute for a servant's indiscretion... oh, gods, and he'd been worried Jasper would be this weak, but she was so, so warm... just one touch, please, just one...

"You wanted to sample your bride's hot little servant," she hissed in his ear. "Isn't that right? Go on." Her hand stroked along his thigh, closer and closer to his bulge. "Go on! It's okay that you fell this easy." Her voice was soothing, melodic. "It's okay..."

"Get off me!" Felic finally burst out. He reached back to try to shove her away, but somehow, she managed to catch his arm in hers, to trap it behind his back.

"Are you sure?" she cooed, planting one more kiss right where his neck met his shoulder. Her fingers started to skitter closer. "Are you suuure—"

"His Highness was clear," said a cool, resonant voice, and Lleva went flying away from him like he was made of lava.

Felic spun around, panting. Lleva stared at him—smoldering red eyes, burning cheeks—then at the ribbon which had been bound around her wrist.

The castle spirit spun into being behind her. "Forgive me, my Prince," they said, sounding genuinely cross."My attention was divided, and I could not tell how willing this was. I should have checked in sooner."

"She should have," Felic panted, hurriedly turning back to adjust his cock in his pants. He frantically wiped at his neck, trying to clear away the lipstick, but all he felt was her saliva. "I—I am—"

He had no idea what to say, and he could tell Lleva knew it. Her expression was bold and knowing, just like those bright red lips. She opened her mouth to speak, and Felic felt unbearable fear of her simple words.

"Lleva!" snarled a voice from up above. Felic nearly jumped out of his skin at the power in that voice.

The color instantly drained from Lleva's face.

Princess Jenne came bounding down the stairs, so fast she had to cling and swing from the handrail as she went, fast enough that Felic was a little bit worried she would slip hurt herself. Her eyes blazed with anger, twin topazes in an inferno as she stalked towards them.

"M-My Lady!" Lleva said, giving a nervous laugh. "I—it's not what it—"

"Oh, you'd do well to be quiet," Jenne hissed. She looked like she wanted to slap her, and Felic noticed her fingers curling, her ears twitching like a cat's. Was she about to cast?

Instead, she turned to the castle spirit and bowed low. "Thank you, honored castle. I hope we can talk more later—I have heard many stories of the Azure Spirit, and you honor us with this appearance. Thank you for apprehending this... this." She gestured toward Lleva as if she wished she could shoot fireballs from her fingers.

Legally, that was to say. She probably could do it physically.

She spun to face Felic, and Felic flinched, quickly taking down the wine bottle so he could hide his fading erection.

But to his shock, her eyes were wide with guilt. "Forgive me, My Prince!" she said miserably. "had I known—oh, but I should have known—damn it all!"

Felic had never heard another royal swear before. But Jenne seemed to be holding back, if anything.

"I—My Princess," he said, biting his lip, "I didn't... I mean, I..."

"Oh, of course I don't blame you!" Jenne shook her head so fast her earrings jangled together like windchimes. "And you mustn't! Ooh, I wish I could—" Her fists clenched as she glanced back at Lleva. "Get her out of my sight! If, ah, if you... to your common servant's quarters. She will not room with us in luxury. I will deal with her on the morrow."

"Of course, Princess Jenne." The castle spirit sounded slightly pleased as they released Lleva's wrists and tapped her on the shoulder. Her face was ashen with dread as she plodded back towards the stairs.

Jenne turned back to Felic. "Oh, Felic, I—Lleva is a wildflower girl. Her father was human, but her mother..." She clenched her fists. "Some creature of the prairies, a goblin, an alraune... or perhaps further back than the mother. Grandmother. But she holds some of the same presence."

"I-I see." Felic stared. He'd never heard of 'Wildflower girls', or of the descendants of the Fae and various other creatures that frequented the prairies having any special powers. But suddenly, those little changes to her lips, the way her touches had... made him feel...

"Of course you can't blame yourself," Jenne said angrily, clasping his hand in both of hers. "This is my responsibility for bringing someone of such ill habits on such an... such an important quest. Please, please, you must forgive me. But if you don't..."

"Of course I do!" Felic burst out. "I mean, Jenne, I only wished to ensure she couldn't ensnare any of my servants. But I didn't know she could... well." It was true, he realized, and it sounded noble. But remembering the way he'd almost melted for her—her, a mere servant—it didn't feel noble at all.

But Jenne clearly did not agree. Her eyes were the size of saucers, as some unspoken relief rushed through her. "Oh, of course! I mean, I had—I had imagined, that you would not seek out her attentions on your own, especially with how... of course, I had known that you would never deliberately seek temptation."

But nonetheless, her shoulders had lightened, and there was a new gleam in her eyes as she squeezed his hand. She was so much smaller than him, and yet he found he could refuse her nothing.

"Still..." she murmured, giggling slightly, "she certainly did get further with you than I'd have... I mean, um, you certainly did grow, didn't you?"

Felix's heart stopped dead.

He stared down at her as she grinned up at him, visibly savoring his mortified blushing. "I mean..." She winked. "My Prince, if you will pardon a briefly indecorous comment when we're both so very off-balance, I am..." She glanced back down at his bulge and trailed off, as if suddenly remembering herself.

There was a pregnant pause. Felic found his cock grow slightly, and Jenne giggled nervously. She released his hand and danced already. "Come, my Prince!" she sang. "It... it wouldn't do to spend too long down here. Let us return at once and resume more polite conversation."

He watched her go up the stairs, heart thudding with every sway of her ass.

Felic had to spend a solid thirty seconds thinking about the driest brand of royal etiquette before he was ready to return to the dining hall.

At least, he consoled himself with a nervous giggle, that particular problem definitely wasn't Lleva's doing anymore.

In fact, after all this, he realized he was feeling more excited about marriage than ever.

TO BE CONTINUED...