The Royal Line Pt. 06

Vitalia was passed from lap to lap like a party favor, losing track of cocks and orgasms, of names and the passage of time. All was blur of flesh and heat, of pleasure and the pack.

***

The hour was near noon, when Princess Vitalia awoke. She was in her own bed, with no recollection of how she came to be there, but this in itself did not unduly trouble her. The smell of the pack was still strong on her skin and from the hall outside she could distantly hear the low rumble of Orac's voice. As long as she had the loyalty of such men, she might count herself well guarded from ordinary threats.

The woman seated beside her bed, however, was far from ordinary.

"God give you good day, sister," Duchess Delicacia said quietly.

"And you also," Vitalia replied. Her voice felt warm and rough in her throat.

Delicacia filled a goblet from the silver ewer on the bedside table and passed it to her little sister. Vitalia sat up in bed to receive it, the coverlet slithering from her shoulders to reveal her nakedness. Delicacia made no comment and Vitalia no move to cover herself.

"The Lady Rue arrived in Greyport late last night," Delicacia informed her as she set the cup down.

"Ah." Vitalia sank back against her pillows, her eyes roving over the rafters, unseeing. "Then we are all here," she mused.

"Indeed," agreed Delicacia. "Is your young hound ready to play his part?"

"Is yours?"

"Fear me not, sister. All is arranged."

"I think that failing to fear you would be a mistake I would likely not have the luxury of repeating."

Delicacia smiled at this and stood, with barely a rustle of her silken gown. Then she reached down and tapped Vitalia in the valley between the snowy mountains of breasts. Her fingertip pressed down gently over the princess' heart.

"Flatterer," Delicacia whispered.

Then she turned on her heel and strode over to a hanging tapestry. The cloth was twitched aside and there was the faintest rasp of stone on well-oiled stone.

Then Delicacia was gone.