"Castles Across The Sea" (closed)

[ToniTaylor]

"Castles Across The Sea"

Closed​

The Kingdom of Sutherlan
Early Spring:

The Messenger was dismounting from his horse even as the beast was coming to a sliding stop. The young man hit the ground running, stumbling, falling, and yet rolling and popping right back up to his feet and continuing forward as if a Court Acrobat performing.

Twenty hurried steps later, the Messenger's feet slid over the rain soaked ground just as his mount's hooves had, and as he came to a stop he simultaneously bowed his upper half and thrust out a hand.

"For his Majesty," the man announced, his breathing labored by exertion and excitement. As he referred to the sealed letter -- now bent a bit and mud stained from the recent tumble -- the Messenger continued, "from the Royal Ambassador to Westumber."

The King's Advisor -- a fancifully dressed man whom the Messenger had approached -- took the scroll, quietly chastised the young man for being so unprofessional, then dismissed him with a wave. The Messenger, however, simply backed a step and waited; there wasn't a soul across the Kingdom -- not a Peasant Farmer, Soldier, Merchant, or Earl -- who didn't know about the negotiations that had been taking place between Sutherlan and Westumber, and like everyone else, the lowly Messenger was eager to hear the news.

Beyond the two of them, King Roland lifted his leather protected wrist to accept the return of the falcon he was training. He called to his Advisor, "Open it, Lord Torrance. Read it. Tell me, is it a wedding or a war."

Lord Torrance broke the wax seal, unrolled the parchment, and read the short message. He looked up to the Messenger with a chastising glare, as if annoyed that the man was still there ... then smiled and winked. The Messenger's face lit up with excitement, and after he gave the obligatory bow and farewell, he spun and hurried off to his horse. Torrance watched the man kick his horse and head toward the city below the hill, knowing that before he himself, the King, and their escort got back down to the Castle, all the town would know the news.



The Royal Gardens
Less than an hour later:

"Tell me again why I am marrying this boy, Elizabeth," Lady Claudia called over her shoulder to her Lady's Maid. "What exactly am I getting out of this?"

With a tone and volume that was one part loyal servant and one part life long friend, the young woman more often called Betty reminded, "First, m'lady, he's not a boy, he's a man. Prince Henry will have celebrated his 18th birthday before we can complete the journey to Westumber. And second, you know what you're getting for marrying--"

"What I'm getting...?" Claudia interrupted. "Let's go over the facts, shall we? I'm not getting anything ... not directly and personally, anyway. Nothing but a husband, and I never asked for one, did I?"

Behind her, Betty rolled her eyes. The two of them -- as well as the Negotiators from the two Kingdoms -- had been debating this topic for more than two years now.

The Kingdoms of Sutherlan and Westumber couldn't have been more different from one another, and they seemed to have only one one thing in common: they each had something the other needed.

The Kingdom of Sutherlan occupied the entirety of the small, relatively round-shaped continent upon which it was located, south of the continent of which Westumber was the largest Realm. The vast majority of Sutherlanese resided within a two day walk of the four large cities located on the continent's northern coastline. These cities had become rich through trade with Westumber and -- to a lesser degree -- the smaller Kingdoms with which Westumber was or had been at war off and on for generations.

The vast majority of the rest of Sutherlan's continent was called the High Plateau. It lay to the south, beyond a tall, east-west running mountain range called the High Peaks. The Plateau was mostly open grasslands and rolling hills, perfect for farming grains and root crops or ranching goats and sheep. Historically, the High Plateau had had a very small population; life there was hard, and without support from the Crown -- which it had never had -- the towns there remained small and insignificant relative to the northern cities. Claudia had spent the year of her 14th birthday traveling about the High Plateau, and she'd discovered that that vast land had upon it just 6 towns that each supported a population of less than 500 people.

Now, however, because of the signing of the treaty, this land was about to be filled with thousands of people.

Westumber didn't occupy the entirety of the continent on which it was located and, in fact, had been fighting over control of those lands for generations. Claudia didn't know all the details of those sometimes decades-long wars, and truthfully she didn't care. What she did know was that these generations of war had had devastating consequences on Westumber's treasury and that Sutherlan was coming to the rescue.

King Roland's treasury was overflowing with gold and silver, mostly from his taxes on trade with the Northern Continent. The treaty King Roland had signed with his counterpart gave -- not loaned -- Westumber the boat loads of silver and gold it needed to support the war effort and finally defeat that Kingdom's foes.

In return, Westumber would cease taxing the Sutherlan merchant ships that visited its ports. It would also end the blockade of the ports of Westumber's foes, thus allowing Sutherlan to trade with those other, smaller Kingdoms without fear of having their ships boarded and the valuable cargo seized as illegal contraband.

The money King Roland was giving Westumber was substantial and relatively immediate, with a massive payment scheduled to be paid within the Moon and further payments made every Moon after that for the next 10 years. The moneys Sutherlan would earn from the changes in trade -- and the fact that Sutherlan's treasury would now collect all of the trade taxes, not half of them -- would be slow to return, but they, too, would be substantial over the decades to come.

King Roland had not only been negotiating with Prince Henry's father, though; he'd made agreements with the King of Westumber's foes as well. Anyone from those opposing lands who wanted to begin a new life on the High Plateau was welcome to relocate there, to farm or ranch or Smithy or whatever they were able to do to make a living ... and pay taxes, of course. It was already estimated that this last final push by Westumber's army could create more than 10,000 refugees, and King Roland was ready and willing to accept each and everyone of them onto his tax roles.

But for King Roland, this treaty was less about the money being giving away now or earned in the years to come. This treaty was about the future of the thrones of Sutherlan and Westumber ... and of how this deal merged them together with the Crown one day being placed upon his grandson's head.

And that, of course, was where his daughter, Claudia, came into the picture. Continuing her chat with her Lady's Maid, the Princess reminded, "I get sold off to some Northern Boy-Prince--"

"He won't be a boy!" Betty repeated yet again.

"--and what do I get for it?"

"You're son-to-be will become King of all Sutherlan and Westumber, m'lady," the other young woman told her. "All of the Known World will be united for the first time under one crown ... in the hands of your child."

Claudia turned to look at Betty for the first time since the conversation had begun and asked with a playful tone, "And what do I get? Me! This son about whom you speak will be Prince Henry's son, also! Sutherlan gains, Westumber gains, Prince Henry gains ... but how do I gain?"

"As I understand it," Betty continued, speaking of things her lover -- one of the Treaty negotiator's scribe -- had told her during some of their pillow talk, "five of the smaller kingdoms located on the coastline -- the ones that are actually closer to our Capital than they are to that of Westumber -- will come to be under Sutherlan's jurisdiction ... essentially becoming part of your Father's Realm."

Claudia looked to Betty and with a sincere tone asked yet again, "And how do I gain?"

The Lady's Maid only shook her head before grumbling, "Why do I put up with this?"

They two of them linked arms and continued their walk through the garden, continuing the unnecessary regurgitation of the topics details. Ironically, Claudia was perfectly fine with her part of the treaty. Well, maybe not fine but at least resigned to the fact that she had a part to play and was going to play it.

She instructed Betty, "Tell me about him again, this--"

"Don't call him the Boy-Prince again, m'lady," the Lady's Maid interrupted. After they giggled together, Betty said, "What is there to know but that they say he's somewhat handsome--"

"Somewhat?" Claudia cut in, laughing. "Last time you said he was handsome, not somewhat handsome, and the time before that you said he was very handsome. What happens to boys from the North when they reach adult age, do their faces suddenly begin drooping and their skins turn gray?"

"Hush! And let me finish!"

Betty went on to describe all she'd heard of Prince Henry through official and unofficial channels, not really knowing how accurate any of it was. The two of them laughed and speculated as they wandered through the garden, until finally Claudia asked the question Betty knew had been coming, "And he has never been with a woman before?"

That was a question that was typically asked of the female half of an upcoming marriage, not the male side. But Claudia was intrigued. Communications between Sutherlan and Westumber were well established, and news -- both personal and otherwise -- traveled freely between the two Kingdoms. And of all the things that should or could be known about Prince Henry from these various sources, Claudia had heard again and again that her future husband was not the typical male from the upper social levels ... meaning he wasn't running around lifting every dress and fucking the warm, wet hole hidden beneath it.

She didn't know whether or not to believe it. Men were men, and men with money and station were the worse men of all, or at least that was Claudia's experience with them. Despite being who she was -- with a father who could order a man's cock and balls sliced off just for looking at her wrong -- Claudia had had more than her share of men try to lift her underskirt with the intention of partaking of her womanhood.

If she was to be honest -- which she wasn't going to be -- Claudia had actually let two of those wishful thinkers succeed. She'd been very careful keeping her sex life a secret, though, knowing that her value as the future wife to some Nobleman or Royal was dependent upon being able to claim she was still a virgin. Betty knew the truth, of course, or -- at least -- part of it; the Lady's Maid knew of one of the two encounters ... and they had been just encounters, with Claudia letting the first man intrude upon her just the one time, taking claiming her virginity, while the second man had had the pleasure of Claudia over a wonderful but short period of just two nights and one afternoon.

Ironically, neither man had known or today knew who Claudia truly was. She'd been incognito at the time, traveling in one of the other large cities with Betty and a single bodyguard and no official identification of herself, her coach, or her entourage.

The first time had been painful and humiliating in a way. The experience had nearly prevented her from repeating it. But Betty had told her that the first time was always that way for a young woman, so -- just days later -- Claudia had taken a second shot at discovering the pleasure her Lady's Maid said could be found with the right man. The follow up had been sweeter and more enjoyable, though, Claudia hadn't found it entirely satisfying, as she'd seen happen between Betty and her own lover while spying upon them from behind a curtain on a couple of occasions.



The Coast of Westumber
Several months later:

"There it is, m'lady," the Lady's Maid said, pointing a finger out before her as the fog surrounding the vessel parted to reveal the land before them. Unnecessarily, Betty said of the castle standing upon the cliff, "Your new home."

"My new home," Claudia repeated, more to herself. "Just in time, I guess."

Betty knew what her Princess meant by that. The ship bringing Claudia north to her wedding -- set to take place in just 12 days -- had left Sutherlan the same day Prince Henry's week long celebration of his 18th birthday had begun. Claudia still made the Boy-Prince jokes sometimes with Betty, but Henry was now officially a Man.

"He knows I'm coming?" she asked the Lady's Maid.

"Yes ... and no, m'lady," Betty said. She explained, "For security reasons, your father sent a second ship flying the Sutherlan banner. The Captain says it should have already docked earlier today. We will dock tonight with no fanfare, and in the night we will make our way to an Inn ... before anyone realizes that you are not on the other ship."

Claudia understood. There were a great many people not happy with the treaty between Sutherlan and Westumber, and because of that, Claudia's Bodyguard had been increased from just 6 members to 60. But Claudia had little fear for her life. Not a single person on this continent other than the Ambassador knew what she looked like, and in Commoner clothing -- peasants wear -- Claudia could easily walk down the street without gaining anymore attention than any other beautiful, young woman would.

"When will I meet him ... Prince Henry?" she asked.

Betty shrugged. "I don't think a formal meet and greet is yet scheduled, m'lady."

Claudia studied the castle as it became more and more clearly seen through the breaking fog. She contemplated the days, moons, and years to come and smiled. She looked for and found her Protector Prime, waving him to her from the deck below. Before he arrived, Claudia told Betty, "You will have Sir Davvis deliver a message to the other ship, a message that will then be given to whoever greets the ship from the Castle. Inform them that I wish to remain aboard my ship for two days while I recover from the long voyage ... and that I will meet Prince Henry on the third day, at the Castle. Then ... I want Sir Davvis to find Prince Henry without letting him know he'd being found. I want to know where he is at all times."

"And why are you asking this, m'lady?" Betty asked with a confused tone.

"I want to meet him without meeting him," Claudia said, looking to her Lady's Maid with a devilish smile. "I want to know who he is ... before he knows who I am."

Betty tried to talk Claudia out of all this silly subterfuge, but the Princess was determined. She wanted to meet and possibly get to know her future husband a bit before they were officially introduced. Claudia didn't know whether or not she would come to know him any better in this fashion. But ... it sounded fun.

 

[Homerun2611]

Prince Henry...The Man Who Would Be King

The Kingdom Or Westerumber
Ten Days Prior to the Messenger's Arrival:

"NO FATHER....NO! I WILL NOT, CANNOT DO IT! LET US GO TO WAR!"

King James sat at his grand mahogany desk, the ink quill in his hand, he was just finishing his note to King Roland. He looked up and saw the pain and anguish on his handsome, no beautiful son't face, and ....laughed! Not a grin, or chuckle, but pushing back from his desk he held his large belly in his two hands and had a laugh so hard that only the coughing caused from the lack of oxygen as he went on and on could stop him.

"Oh my son...grow a pair!" He bellowed, as laughter, turned instantly to anger, bordering on rage, as was the King's near schizophrenia personality.

"Aren't you almost 18?" He turned to the man who had served as his primary negotiator. "Thaddeus, isn't my stupid young, virtuous son almost a man?" The king had used the word virtuous as he could not think of a worse condemnation, and it made him almost ill.

Thaddeus knew the question was rhetorical but answered anyway, "Yes, almost a man. yet obviously not quite!" He said with contempt of the boy about to turn man, who was the late night fantasy of every woman on the northern continent who had ever met or heard of him.

"You are still a virgin, aren't you boy...still believing that marriage should be a holy union of two chaste lovers who have saved themselves for their marital bed? Still living in the drivel your mother taught you? That is a fairytale...What a waste, look at your face, there is not a woman who you don't make wet, nor a cunt not eager to spread to service you. Did I not send you my very best whores on your last birthday, only to be told, "The Prince humbly refuses to let them into his chambers?" To the Gods, I have spent the last year swearing that you are holy and chaste by choice not a fairy...that is not a good question to be asked of a future King!"

Prince Henry put his head down shaking it, he was so tired of this discussion, how he wished his mother were still alive, the woman who had bestowed his sense of right and wrong, and used to read to him from the God's Book in the Gardens as he sat there with Gwenn. They had been two young flower buds basking in the knowledge of the joys of living a life approved and endorsed by God. "I know you do not understand father...but I am not like you?" He was not homosexual, but he knew men who were and they were good men, but he did not dare broach that topic with his father, not now, not ever.

Had he not honed his body as a temple, strong and proud a vessel that honored his maker. Had his mother not taught him that he must stay chaste until his wedding night, and that purity would ensure God would protect him on the battlefield. Had the security of that knowledge not made him fearless and strong, was he not the greatest warrior on the northern continent if not the world. In his mind, the Kingdom of Sutherland was fat and happy, like a swine readied for slaughter. They did not fight, he could lead his troops and slay them with ease, or so he envisioned. He was heroic and gallant and supremely naïve, while his father was hardened and wise to the economic realities of their current situation.


Nevertheless, Henry took a different tack. "Father, who is the finest young general in your armies, who is the fastest and most accomplished horseman, who is the most skillful with the sword, and the most accomplished archer...if I can not lead us to victory over Sutherland, who can? Do you not trust me?"

His father only stared, "And who has the biggest cock, yet has never let it enjoy the tender touch of a woman's cunt?...All of these questions have the same fucking answer!" And off King James was laughing again, and this time Thaddeus laughed with him.

"What if she is ugly and hideous?" Asked Henry

"She most certainly is not, in fact Princess Claudia is rumored to be amongst the most fair in all the south...and you know the reputation of the women of the south, and the relentless hunger that lies between their thighs!" The answer came from Thaddeus, and Henry knew he was fighting a lost cause, no matter how blasphemous and intimidating Henry found this description.

"What if she is clumsy, and ill witted?" Henry tried again. "She is said to dance as if weightless, with the voice of a nightingale, and is said to be so smart she should have been born a man...she is also said to be witty and clever and rumor has it, a bit of a ribald sense of humor."

Now Thaddeus and the King considered this last aspect a most positive attribute, Henry did not! "I want a woman who loves her God equal to her husband, who finds strength in prayer!" And again the two older men laughed.

"Oh stupid boy, that is only what you think you want, what all inexperienced young men think they want, until the boredom of marriage sets in...you want a woman who holds her head high in public and can't wait to deliver her mouth to your manhood in chambers, or get on her hands and knees, craving to be taken as your bitch!"

The King got serious, "Son, even if I wanted to, we have less than a thousand pounds of gold left in our vaults, King Roland will deliver us that amount twenty times over, just this moon, and that is only the beginning. As a warrior you are spectacular, there is no doubt, but to settle our conflicts we must arm and provision our troops, and we do not have the money to do that any longer. We are at risk, with many enemies as you know, and our soft underbelly is very much exposed for the piercing."

The King was weary and tired, the negotiations had been long and he wished them over. He spoke truth, "I only have one thing left to trade, my son's cock and royal seed...and so, that is the trade that will be made!"

King James finished the letter and attached his royal seal. Young Thomas was called in, the second fastest rider in the kingdom, second to only his son, the prince, and he was put on a boat, sailing 8 days south where he delivered the acceptance.

King James came around after Thomas had left, he did love his son, in his own way, and tried to console him. "Son, you have six months, you will not be married until you are 18, and so make the most of it. Sew those wild oats, find that woman, you do not want to go to your marital bed inexperienced. Enjoy as many women as you want...hell, after you are married, still enjoy them...I did! Just marry Princess Claudia...and fill her belly with a son. Other than that, fuck whoever, whenever you want...you will be King!"

Henry didn't respond, he simply left, his father did not understand him at all, and he would not use his last six months to betray everything he had vowed to his mother. His mother had made no secret of the King's infidelity, bringing his mistresses to court at will, nor the hurt he had caused her. He had humiliated his mother and Henry hated him for it...he had no intention to ever do the same no matter how repulsive he may find his southern wife!


The Royal Palace Gardens of Sumberland
The Final Night of the Princes Birthday Celebration Week, Three Days Before Princess Claudia's Arrival

The feast of the final night had just finished, her arrival had been late, as she had just returned from foreign travels. Eight years of training across three separate courts, she had come back home as a Lady, just turning 18 and looking for him!

Prince Henry had just stood up, six foot two and 185 pounds of perfectly sculpted muscle, dark brown hair and soft brown eyes that made you feel warm and loved and wanting to jump inside and bathe, full lips that longed to be kissed, and soft skin, no beard even yet possible, that needed to be caressed.

He was about to propose a toast that would begin the dancing when she walked in. Their eyes latched upon her entrance, she felt her heart stop, and he forget whatever he was saying, they just stared. "Gwenn..." He murmured, she was back. He would have known those emerald eyes anywhere, the same with her firry red hair, but the body was all knew, all grown, and stunning, as was the combination!

Regaining his composure, he finished his toast, thanking all of his friends, and even his father who was in attendance this final evening. Two ladies of the court on each side, just as they would be in his royal bed later. "Thank you for sharing this with me...you are my closest friends. Thank you for the hunt! Thank you for the games! No man could have asked for a finer birthday." He had planned to discuss his upcoming marriage, but with Gwenn there, looking up at him, he couldn't.

For he knew, long ago he had given her his heart and promised it would be there, unsullied when she returned. And at least for now, it was. She had promised the same. They had shared his first and only kiss, at the age of ten, the day she left. He had dreamed of her so many times since.

As he went through puberty, in the morning waking with increasingly large and ever harder erections, it was undoubtedly a result of having pictured her, and who she may be today. As he looked out over the guests, those eyes could only be hers, but no matter how he had dreamed, even fantasized, she had never been this beautiful.

They stood there mesmerized in the gaze of each other, children who made silly children's promises, reunited now as young adults. They stood as young God and Goddess, bestowed with a physical embodiment that seemed crafted by a master sculpter or painter with the most talented of gifts. Both individually and in combination they were stunningly beautiful, with a purity that seemed to glow from their respective beings.

He finished the toast and the musicians began to play, the dancing to begin. Prince Henry only had one destination on his mind and soon he was before her, taking her hand and kneeling to kiss the back of it. "My Lady Gwenndolyn, you don't know how often I have anticipated this moment, I had come to fear you might never return....yet here you are, on my birthday no less, no greater gift or surprise could I have wished for!"

The king had been within earshot of this exchange. He vaguely remembered the little girl, he would not easily forget the woman. He listened to his son, his son did not speak like this, and he certainly did not sound like a man who was thinking about meeting his future wife in three days. He would need to do something to address this quickly...

 

[ToniTaylor]

Very few days over the past 8 years had begun and ended without thoughts of Prince Henry of Westumber entering the mind of Gwendolyn of House Torrun. Even at just 10 years of age, she'd known that she and Henry would one day be married and would become King and Queen Consort of not just the North Continent but of the South Continent as well.

As the years passed, the dreams of a Westumber ruled world faded, but Gwenn's faith in her future marriage to Henry remained steadfast. They wrote to each other so often and so consistently that the Messengers no longer asked if she had an outgoing letter, they simply presumed she did. She kept them in an intricately decorated oak box that -- regardless of where in the world her Ambassador father had dragged her -- sat on a small table near her bed to enable her to read and reread her favorites until either she fell asleep or the candles burned out.

Then, when she was 14, her mother personally handed Gwenn Henry's most recent letter, telling her it would be the last. Westumber had entered entered into treaty negotiations with Sutherlan, Gwenn's mother had told her, negotiations that would see Prince Henry married off to a southern Noble or, more likely, to one of King Roland's daughters.

"But I was to marry Henry!" Gwenn had argued. "Father is a powerful man, a rich man, an Earl ... the richest and most powerful of the Westumber Earls. Even if Henry and I were not Soul Mates in the eyes of God--"

"It's gone, my daughter," her mother had interrupted. She'd gone on to explain that the family's vast estate had been lost to invading forces years earlier, that her life of luxury had been financed entirely by King James. "Your father is still and Earl, and he is still the King's Ambassador. But he has nothing to offer the King now. He seeks help from Sutherlan now. He seeks gold, he seeks troops, he seeks ships ... and he seeks a wife for his son."

Gwenn had been and still was crushed, of course. She still thought of Henry each day, sometimes with a tear running down a cheek. But life went on, and so did Gwenn. When her mother died of the Fever, she became Lady Gwendolyn and took over the responsibilities her mother had had for so long. Despite no longer having a vast estate and the wealth that came with it, the House of Torrun still had social duties.

One of those, of course, was to make an appearance at both the Coming Of Age Celebration for the King's son, Prince Henry, and at his marriage to the Sutherlan Princess. Gwenn had actually been in the Capital for most of the past Moon, but she'd arrived incognito -- much as Henry's bride to be would in the days coming -- and she'd remained in isolation all that time, trying to screw up the courage to call on her lost love.

Gwenn had nearly skipped tonight. It was going to be difficult, too difficult to see him, knowing that in a few days he'd be laying between a Princess's thighs, making the heir to one or even two continents within the womb of another woman. She finally convinced herself that Henry had likely forgotten her anyway; she would be just another pretty face among many pretty faces. She'd also convinced herself that Henry had probably been against the naked bodies of many of those pretty faces over the past few years, so even if he did recognize her, it would mean very little.

But then, when he found her in the crowd and met her gaze with fixed eyes, Gwenn realized that she'd been wrong and, likely, had made a mistake. She'd tried to convince herself that he no longer thought of her ... or if that weren't true, that he at the least no longer longed for her ... or if that weren't true, that he understood and accepted that they could never be together.

But the look he gave her and the effect it had on her -- chills ran up her spine, gooseflesh flooded her skin, and a stirring arose between her thighs -- told Gwenn that not only had the connection between them not waned, it had grown stronger.

Prince Henry finished his toast, and as the music began and the party's attendees began to dance, he cut a path directly for Gwenn. She gave an elegant, formal curtsey as he arrived, saying in a soft voice, "My Grace."

He took her hand and kissed it; another chill ran up Gwenn's spine, and the fair skin of her freckled face flooded red.

"My Lady, you don't know how often I have anticipated this moment," Henry told her, still holding her hand in his. "I had come to fear you might never return....yet here you are, on my birthday no less, no greater gift or surprise could I have wished for!"

"The House of Torrun wishes you all the happiness in the world, My Grace," Gwenn said in a very formal way, adding, "My father had wished to make the journey--"

That wasn't true, of course. For the past 14 years -- prior to, during, and following the conquest of his Earldom by foreign invaders -- Lord Torrun had place a great deal of that defeat on the King's refusal to send Crown troops to help in the fighting. Gwenn's father had then and still today felt that he'd been owed far more than a small House and Estate in the Capital and an Ambassadorship to some of the most primitive Kingdoms on the North Continent for all that he'd given the Crown and all he'd lost. The King could have sent a army to retrieve him from his current assignment and he wouldn't have left.

"--but he's been ill recently," Gwenn continued, "and while he refuses to admit it, the years have aged him faster than he believes."

She chuckled, clarifying, "He's not going to die on me or any such thing, as he is too stubborn to do such a thing. But, as I explained, travel was not advised, and he wishes me to pass on his good wishes for you on your birthday..."

Gwenn watched closely for Henry's reaction as she finished, "...and on your upcoming nuptials."

It was no secret by now across either of the two great Continents that the son of the King of Westumber was getting married, but Gwenn was curious as to whether Henry's reaction to hearing her speak of it would be any different than his reaction when others did.

"I am told Princess Claudia is a beautiful woman," Gwenn continued after Henry had responded to her well wishes. "And I am told that her father is vastly wealthy."

Again, Gwenn was curious as to how Henry would react. It was the assumption of anyone in the know regarding the Kingdom's financial situation that this marriage was all about gold, gold, gold. Westumber needed it, Sutherlan had it, and this marriage was going to see it move north, then south in great quantities.

Royal weddings were often about gold, and when they weren't, they were about joining two smaller Houses to create one larger House ... which, of course, was about gold. Gwenn wasn't an idiot; she'd grown up knowing that. But as she'd been growing up, she'd believed that her father's gold would be joined with that of King James via her marriage to Henry. And, of course, that hadn't happened.

 

[Homerun2611]

"Don't do it...Henry don't!" Roderick had seen the look on his lifelong friend's face and he had only seen it once before and it had been ten years ago. He knew that Gwenn was the love of his best friend's life, just as, although never voiced or even suggested, Henry always had been and would be the love of his! He reached up and grabbed Henry's arm, the path he was headed was fraught with nothing but heartache and unrequited love. However this time it was politics rather than either participant that made their romance imp. No one understood that path better then Roderick, even after his injury.

Prince Henry looked at his friend, he knew he was only acting in what he believed was his best interest, just as he always had, but ... but, this was HER! All Henry had needed was to see her, alive and present in the room. He was suddenly no longer eighteen, he was ten, without a care in the world, anxious to see the one person tha that put a smile on his face and his heart to cartwheels. He looked at Roderick, "I have to, you know I have to!"

He was walking on air, eyes dancing, heart pounding, and the electricity that he felt as he took her hand, tripled as he kissed it, he wanted to stop the world and hop off with the single and only love of his life! He had a million questions, she deserved a million answers, but his sole focus was somehow figuring out how to get alone. He had said much in his opening salvo, wanting to make clear how much ha had missed her, and how his heart, mind and soul had longed for her.

In response he got a bit of chilling formality. "Thank you...your father will be missed. Gwenn..." He used the name he had called her for years and addressed every letter, those that were answered, and all the more recent ones that had not. "I was so sorry to hear of your mother..." Prince Henry had been made aware of Ambassador Torun's hard feelings toward his father and guessed correctly that teh man was not ill, only sick of the throne. Knowing his father, Henry could only assume his father was at fault. He also knew of how the Torun family estate had dwindled, although still held in high regard. None of that mattered to Henry, he was and always had been in love with her, princess or peasant it would not have mattered, but that was him. He knew, however, to the rest of the world, it mattered greatly!

Her mother's death had rocked him, he had begged to take leave and attend her burial, but he was leading an advance on the other side of the continent and his absence was not possible. At least the cause of her mother's death was known, Henry's own mother had supposedly died of an accident while riding. This would have been understandable, if his mother, ever considered riding as opposed to being driven in a carriage. With his mother gone, the King no longer had to show even the minor discretion he had earlier, and the turnstyle of women, many wives and daughters of his own Kingdom's Lord's, each taking their required term in his bed, had become quite the source of conflict amongst his royal supporters.

Prince Henry tried to read her, what was wrong, if he had done something why was she here. His last note from her, over three years past, had restressed her eternal love, yet for the next two years, not another letter was answered, finally he stopped writing himself. "...and on your upcoming nuptials." Well, there it was, he saw her eyes burn into him, and in response his looked down ashamed. He wanted to grab her and hold her, explain that no one knew better than he, that he was marrying the wrong woman, the right one here, standing in his presence. "Thanks...I..uhm...would like to discuss that with you, if you would let us step away."

He wanted to tell her everything, and nothing. He wanted to hold her, show her, yes that woman had his pledge, this, she, his Gwenn, had his heart....and always would, or so he thought. He could feel the thinness of the ice they were walking on, this was torture, but he stood his ground, he deserved whatever she had to say. "I am told Princess Claudia is a beautiful woman," Gwenn continued after Henry had responded to her well wishes. "And I am told that her father is vastly wealthy." He let out a long sigh, and looked into her eyes. Words could not express his guild or how much he did not want to hurt her. "I do not know if she is beautiful or not, we have never met...." He tried to speak in code. "I do not have much experience in these matters, for there is only one woman I ever loved, only one I have ever found truly beautiful, never did another compare." He now had to face the other question, "Yes, King Roland is quite wealthy and this marriage will solidify the realm, and I am the King's son."

The band played louder and the Prince knew he must make a presence. He held out his hand, "You would not reject a Prince a dance on his birthday?" He waited for his answer before taking her hand and walking her to the ballroom floor. As he pulled her into his arms, he was afraid he might only get this one dance. How could it have been so long since they had parted, and how could it possibly feel this good to feel her here with him. He leaned in, "Gwenn, for ten years I have waited for you, I have so much to say, so much to ask. Why did you stop returning my letters?" He saw her lean back and look at him. "Please give me one chance to speak with you? In an hour, people will will be full of drink, you know the garden maze, the swing where we played as children, the spot we said good bye...in one hour, meet me there, please, if I ever meant anything to you...please meet me?"

The music ended, he longed for another dance, they needn't talk, he just wanted to feel her a few more moments in his arms. Instead, he felt himself pulled away, another Lord, pushing the crowned prince to dance with his daughter. The next hour was a whirlwind, he could not remember a single dance or conversation. Finally, the hour was over, and he grabbed two glasses of wine, even though he was not really a drinker, but he thought it might help, what exactly he wasn't sure.

He slipped out the back and down the stairs. He was headed to their place, the spot of his favorite childhood memories. A location he had not visited in many years, it had been too painful. It was dimly lit, a few candlelit lamps, and he got their first. He looked around, taking it in and so many pleasant memories came flooding back. Oh how he had missed her...and then he began to worry, what if she didn't come?

 

[ToniTaylor]

"I do not know if she is beautiful or not," Henry said about his betrothed. "We have never met...."

Gwenn was somewhat surprised that Henry had not requested a Likeness of Claudia prior to agreeing to married. A handful of years ago, a new technique with printing blocks and a form of etching had made it possible for an artist to create a portrait with tools on metal sheeting, then reproduce the image several times before the original became too warn to copy.

It required a Master Artist, of course, and it was very expensive, so much so that Gwenn had only seen four such Likenesses, one of which had been of the nude Mistress of one of the Lesser Kings to whom her father had been an Ambassador. Gwenn had often wondered how Henry would react if he was to receive a package from a distant land and open it to find an erotic image of a shapely, sexy woman ... only to realize that it was her.

Gwenn had never done it, of course. She could never have come up with the coin without asking it of her father, and she doubted that she could have screwed up the courage to undress for the lengthy Setting, even if she'd been assured that the closest the Master Artist would get to her body was scratching its features on the metal surface.

"I do not have much experience in these matters," Henry went on, speaking on the topic of women and their beauty. Then he surprised Gwenn by confessing, "for there is only one woman I ever loved, only one I have ever found truly beautiful, never did another compare."

Her fair, freckled face again exploded in a fiery blush. Gwenn had hoped beyond hope that Henry had never forgotten her or abandoned the feelings they'd had for each other. Oh, they'd been just children at the time, barely into their double digit ages and yet to reach puberty. And although they still hadn't truly known what love was, they'd already known that they felt something akin to it.

He spoke about his Father, the Kingdom, and his own responsibility to it just as the music indicated that the next dance was for him. Gwenn didn't hesitate to take Henry's hand to be led out to the dance floor. The dozens of couples on it slowly faded to the periphery of the massive hall's dance floor, leaving nearly the entirety of it for them.

It was customary in a dance of couples, as opposed to dances of paired groups, for the female half of the match to give indication as to how intimate the dance would be. Gwenn had a choice between the offering one hand and turning her side to Henry indicating that they would dance the conservative Trome Spiral or offering one hand while moving in closer, face to face, to indicate the more intimate Farnsworth Swirl.

Gwenn knew she should have chosen the latter, and yet after she'd curtseyed and he'd bowed, she moved up close to Henry, giving over her right hand to his left and indicating permission for him to gently lay his right upon her hip. Her movement as they began let Henry know she was looking for at least a body's depth of space between them ... and yet, as the dance progressed, that space would diminish and at times she would happily feel his chest against her bosom for just a fleeting moment.

They twirled about the floor, completing a full circuit of the hall and giving most of the other attendees an opportunity to spy Gwenn's face and wonder just who was this beauty dancing with their King. People asked of other people whether this was their future Queen Consort, getting no's, yes's, and how could we possibly know's in answer. Eventually, some above intelligent Noble or his or her Guest or Aide would check with the Invitation Taker at the door and would learn of Gwenn's true identity, but by the time that happened and word got around, the dance would be over and the couple would have gone off to entertain other dance partners.

Eventually, with a well known signal skillfully buried in the music, other couples knew it was permissible to join their King-to-be on the floor. Earls, then Counts, then Lesser Nobles, landless Lords, and wealthy merchants led their Wives, Mistresses, or other men's Wives or Mistresses out to form a circle within a circle within yet another circle that would move about the floor, the birthday boy and his mystery woman in the center.

"Gwenn, for ten years I have waited for you," Henry told her once the attention was no longer fully upon them. "I have so much to say, so much to ask. Why did you stop returning my letters?"

Gwenn opened her mouth to correct him, to say that she'd been told he wouldn't be writing to her anymore. But his question indicated that he hadn't stopped, that instead someone -- his father or hers? -- had likely been responsible for the severing of communication.

"It was no longer proper for me to write to you, My Grace," Gwenn said, taking responsibility for what had -- unknown to her -- been her Mother's actions. "You were soon to become betrothed to another woman, and it was time for us to grow up."

That last part had been hard for Gwenn to say, and she'd diverted her eyes from Henry -- feigning interest in another woman's dress -- to take the opportunity to blink away a threatening tear. Grow up...? As she'd aged, even after the letters had stopped coming, Gwenn's feeling for Henry had only deepened, even though she'd never seen him again over the eight years she'd been away from the Capital.

Eventually, Gwenn looked back to Henry and told him plainly, "You are the son of the King ... you will someday soon be the King ... and you are taking a proper wife who will give you a son who will one day be King as well."

Gwenn wanted to say more, but she could feel the emotion building up within her, and she needed to get away before it simply exploded from within her. She ceased her coordinated movement with Henry and backed away half a step, indicating the end of their dance.

But Henry pulled her back, saying, "Please give me one chance to speak with you?"

She was about to say no, but he continued with details of their rendezvous, finishing with, "Please meet me?"

She answered with a vague smile, another step back, and a graceful, respectful curtsey, accompanied with a farewell loud enough for the nearest couples to hear, "It has been a pleasure and an honor dancing with you, My Grace. I wish you all the happiness in the world with your Southern Bride. May she bear you strong sons and beautiful daughters and keep you happy all your days and nights."

She curtseyed again, gave Henry one last longing look, and turned to depart without having answered whether she was going to meet him or not.



An hour later, the short steps that could only be those of a woman in laced dress boots sounded upon the stone walk leading to the maze swing. But when Henry caught sight of her, he found Gwenn's Lady's Maid instead. She wore a tentative expression on her face as she stopped, curtseyed, move ahead again, and offered out a folded note and a soft, "From m'lady, m'Grace."

She backed a step again, curtseyed, and turned, leaving in more of a hurry than that with which she'd arrived. Behind her, when he decided to open it, Henry would find Gwenn's well taught handwriting explaining,

My Dearest Henry,

I have loved you all my life,
and I will love you all my life.

Your Gwen.​

 

[ToniTaylor]

Deleted

 

[Homerun2611]

Prince Henry was both more terrified than he had ever felt before, and more excited. Despite his young age he had waged in three separate wars, albeit simultaneous skirmishes and fought in more battles than he could count, and taken more than 1,000 men's lives with his own sword alone. How could such an experienced warrior be such a neophyte in the ways of the heart?!?! Oh, it wasn't that he hadn't had offers, his prior birthday was not the only time the king or others had tried to send concubines to his door. And then there were the young and old ladies of the court, the prince was the pelt they all hoped to mount on their bedpost and not once, not ever had he considered.

He had waited, they had discussed it in their letters, using code words, euphemisms and metaphors, but love was an exploration they only wanted to take together. Even after they stopped communicating, he had never allowed himself to slip, he was a fresh canvass, untouched and unsullied, and he had assumed, maybe inaccurately so, that she was too! So now, as he waited he couldn't help but wonder, if now that she was back, might not be that time? Even as he walked down, he knew he was feeling different, expectant, aroused, and he felt himself harden. That white snake that had been dormant, near ten inches down his muscular thigh, awoke and he could feel it pressing, somewhat uncomfortably, stressing the tensile strength capacity of his tights.

As he waited he closed his eyes and found himself moving slowly, his hands in position, redancing their dance. Had music ever been that sweet, had anything ever felt as good as her hand in his, his other on her hip? He sighed deeply, she was everything he had hoped and more, except...she had made it clear that she no longer felt that he was hers, and therefore, the harsh reality was, the opposite might well be true? Oh he hoped not, and he hoped he could explain, yes he was about to take a wife, but his love, his heart, his ....whatever else she wanted, was and always would be hers! Henry was comically naïve.

He heard the footsteps and he could not contain the smile, the delicacy of the footsteps in must be...."Who are you?" He looked and asked quizzically. Henry was so confused, "Don't I know you?" He could have sworn he had seen that face, or a much younger version, but he took the note, fearing the worst.

He recognized the hand writing in an instant, he soaked in every word:

My Dearest Henry,

I have loved you all my life,
and I will love you all my life.

Your Gwen.​

How could any set of words both thrill and disappoint so thoroughly and completely? He was both thrilled and devastated, and as he looked up, filled with questions the young woman was no longer there. "Come back! Please come back! Where is she...how...how do I see her? He called out, and nothing, no response, had the maiden not heard him, or did she simply not care? "COME BACK!!!!" He now screamed, "WINNIE!!!!" He finally screamed, using the pet name of their childhood. But she would not come back, no one would. And so the young, strong handsome prince, sat down on his childhood swing, and setting his head in his hands, and wept.

It was almost another half hour before Roderick found his friend, Henry was inconsolable, and Roderick took the tear stained note from his friend's hand and read it. "I see...I'm sorry!" He helped Henry up and hugged him, as the man he longed for more than he thought possible, cried into his shoulder for want of another.

"Sire we must clean you up, we can't have you seen this way." He was right and Henry knew it, and tried to compose himself. He brushed the tears away and took several deep breaths. Roderick helped him to his chambers, and only encountered one guard who looked at them skeptically, as rumors of the Prince and Roderick had long, and unfoundedly, run rampant. "The Prince has over celebrated a bit...I will help him to his chambers but please send his hand maid to assist?"

He added the last comment to make clear he was not taking the Prince to his bed, alone! Roderick had always tended to his friend for he loved him dearly. He was the only one, on the Prince's side, who know completely of Henry's complete devotion for Gwenn. It was only after their communications halted that Roderick became fully aware of his own feelings, his own self. For when Gwenn seemed to retreat from the picture, he found himself hoping he might emerge.

The two men loved each other, but quite differently. Henry loved Roderick as the brother he had never had, and his only trusted confidant, other than his mother, and Gwenn, who were both no longer available. But for Roderick, there was more. The Prince was beautiful and handsome, a resplendent warrior, sweet and sensitive, smart and funny...and he longed for him. Not to mention the two men had seen each other naked, many times, and the Prince was gorgeous, and oh my, his cock was as much horse as man's and how Roderick longed to please it!

That was both before and after the injury. Ah yes, the injury, it was on the battlefield, nine months prior, the invasion of Castle Essex. Roderick had feared Henry cornered, and had come to his rescue. However, as he approached, Henry skewered the last of the three soldiers. In relief, Roderick dropped his sword, only to see the man spin and fall with outstretched hand and knife and, "Oh God!" Roderick yelled as she saw the man's blade enter his body and nearly sever his cock.

It was ironic that Roderick's fantasy of having Henry fondle his manhood was only realized as a measure to control the bleeding. The organ was saved, as was he. He would live to piss again, but never to fuck. So now, no matter how his heart raged and pained, his phallus was all but dead. Now back in the prince's quarters he tried to console him while the handmaiden stripped him down and readied Henry for bed.

"She loves me, she still does!" He reveled in one statement. "Of course she does, sire, how could she not?" Roderick said truthfully. "Yet she deserts me! Why?" Roderick chuckled at the irony. "Because she is noble and she wants to do what is right for you? You don't know the pain she is feeling, wanting a man so desperately that convention will not tolerate."

"But she can have me...somehow...perhaps you could and then we could?" Henry was rambling it wouldn't be until much later that he would fully develop the plan to have Roderick marry Gwenn, so that he might see her. He was a Prince, and not too much longer, he would be king. He was somewhat narcissistic, and very entitled. He had long been the center of his universe and he simply expected the rest of the world to spin around him.

"I know you love her Henry..." He used his name when they were alone. "...and I know you want her, and I am pretty sure she feels the same. However, she knows that is impossible, at least formally...and I beg, that you try to do the same."

That depressed and angered Henry. "You don't understand, how could you understand with your..." He looked down the handsome Roderick's athletic frame, but stopped at his largely useless cock, "...issue." Roderick controlled his temper, "Because feelings and emotions, not even desire, are stored in my cock, they are stored in my brain and heart. I do know the pain of unrequited love, I know it dearly. And..." Roderick did not want to say more, he simply bowed, "I am sorry, I will leave your grace, and...I really am sorry Henry."

It was two days later, Henry had not left his quarters since that night, having meals brought to his room. He had brought in his top lieutenants, the men who served him best in battle and issued a command. "Find Gwendolynn from the House of Torrun! She must still be here, somewhere, knock on ever door, turn over every stone, but find her!"

It was late afternoon on day two that he sent for Roderick, he was already dressed in his Royal Garb. "I am sorry for the other night, I have never considered that you might have had someone, and since your injury...I am sorry my friend, I never knew, I wish I had." This was part of the reason Roderick loved Henry, "I know your Grace, I know you didn't, and you couldn't, it would not have been good for you, and I could not chance disgracing your realm."

Henry assumed it was a wife of a lord, or perhaps a boy of the court, he never contemplated that it was himself. "Tonight I must meet my new wife, I would like you to ride with me, just a small party as I don't know how I will feel seeing her, and I do not wish extra witnesses. Will you do that?" It was not a command, but a request, one friend to another. "Of Course Henry, you know the answer."

That night it was just the two of them, although clearly dressed in royal attire, riding gorgeous royal steeds. They came up to the guards, Roderick spoke first. "This is Prince Henry of Castle Westumber, he is here to see Princess Claudia, his fiance." It was then they were told they would be turned away, the Princess needed her rest and would meet him in three days at the Castle. "She will what?"" Henry was both offended and relieved, perhaps he would be of better mind then. However, he also felt yet another woman was denying him, yet this one was much less emotional.

Henry did not wish to fight, "Come Roderick, I guess I shall meet my wife to be later." They turned the horses and Roderick began to point his horse back to the castle. Henry had different ideas. "Roderick, I want to go to the Boarshead, will you take me?" Henry had never been a drinker and he was requesting the most infamous tavern/brothel/caberets off the alley just to the south of the town's centre. "Of course Henry, but it is not..."

Henry laughed, "Not the type of establishment I frequent? I know it is not, but I think it is perhaps time I learn to drink, and I need your help. I don't want to drink to celebrate, I want to drink to forget, is there such a thing?" Now it was Roderick's turn to laugh. "Why, yes there is my Grace, RUM, lots of rum!"

Twenty minutes later their horses were tied up outside, and Henry and Roderick were avoiding the glares of the loyal whispering about the attendance of the Prince at this particular establishment. Lucy, one of the more beautiful servers, thin but buxom with raven black hair, had somehow won the right to service the Prince. He would be offered the ability to be serviced upstairs as well, and if Lucy was not his choosing, there were other flavors, big and small, all colors and ethnicities to choose from. What he had not seen was the man who had followed them from the harbor, watched them walk in, and gone to notify the Princess.

 

[ToniTaylor]

"The Boarshead?" Claudia asked, the tone indicating her curiosity at the name. As she moved about the small room they'd rented just beyond the beginning of the pier, she asked with ignorance, "This is an Inn ... a Tavern?"

The two Sutherlan men before her glanced at each other, hoping the other was willing to explain. One was her Protector, Sir Lawrence. He had been her personal bodyguard almost since her birth. He was a barrel chested man 6 and a half feet tall in his early 50s. Physically and mentally, he was twice the man of any other Claudia had ever known, and she not only trusted and respected him but loved him dearly, even more so that she did her father.

The other male was Nigel, Claudia's spy north of the Strait that separated the World's two known continents. He couldn't have been more unlike Lawrence than Claudia was herself. He was 2 inches shorter than her 5'6" height and slight in build, with the face of a boy half his true age of 28, something that had been an asset more often than one would have imagined.

"It is an Inn, my Grace," Nigel began with a tentative tone. "It's an Inn ... in which is located a Cabaret ... above which is located ... a Brothel ... my Grace."

Claudia's lips spread. With humor, she asked, "And my supposedly naïve, innocent, pure of body and mind, virginal Betrothed ... he is being entertained in this ... Boarshead brothel?"

"Perhaps not," Betty chimed in quickly. When Claudia looked to her, she did her own clarifying, "Perhaps he is simply in the Inn ... for dinner ... and drink."

Claudia's smile only widened further. "We will go to this ... Inn ... and be entertained ourselves."

"My Grace?" Lawrence asked in surprise. "This is no place for a Princess of Sutherlan. It is not even a place for a Prince of Westumber."

"And yet ... the Prince is there," Claudia countered. "Lawrence ... Nigel ... we will leave for the Boarshead shortly. We have horses, yes...? Good. Prepare them."

Neither man immediately made effort to leave until Claudia shooed them away with a wave each knew as being her steadfast gesture. After they'd left the room, she asked Betty, "Where's that one dress...? You know the one I mean."



An hour later -- two hours after Nigel's informants had spied Henry entering it -- the four from Sutherlan entered the Boarsheads Inn. As the closest thing to a local other than those who actually were, Nigel led the foursome, knowing that he would be the most likely to notice if anything was amiss. He'd actually expecting to see between 2 and 10 Palace Guards and/or Royal Bodyguards, watching the entrance from both outside and inside, as well as taking security positions around Prince Henry. But he saw not a one, and it was only after he found King James's son sitting at a small mezzanine table that Nigel saw anyone directly associated to the Prince, King, or Crown.

Betty followed Nigel and Claudia followed her; Lawrence checked the street for cutthroats who were known for staking out such establishments with the hopes of attacking and robbing patrons, either as they were leaving or while they were still inside imbibing and lessening their good senses with less than quality liquors and liqueurs. He spied a pair of men studying him and his Charges, but after staring them down and pulling back his cape to show not only his sword but his dagger -- which was practically a sword itself -- the two men slunk away down the street into the dark in search of easier prey.

Once inside the tavern portion of the establishment and while still standing on the metal grate just inside the doors, Claudia shook off the droplets of rain and mist that had built up on her hooded cape. Actually, it wasn't her cape at all, for all of her own gowns bore intricate artwork -- embroidery, pins, lace, and/or more -- that indicated wealth and status and, in some cases, bore the Royal Seal of Sutherlan.

Instead, Claudia had worn a cloak and beneath it a dress that were both beautiful but made of modest fabrics. They indicated modest wealth but not so much that Claudia would immediately be assumed to be of High Peerage, let alone Royalty. And as a final touch, they were both of Westumber design and fabrics, giving the appearance that Claudia was a local, not a foreigner.

Nigel had gone ahead of the other three to inquire about a private table, and when he returned he said, "Mezzanine ... directly behind me ... two handsome gentlemen being served by a raven haired woman."

Betty and Lawrence had been taking their turns shaking off the rain and stomping their boots free of the street mud as the Innkeeper stepped up next to Nigel, asking, "Would m'lady prefer a table on the main floor or--"

"Up there, please, my good man," Claudia cut him off. She nodded her head toward a table on the mezzanine that had just one other between it and the one at which the newly identified Henry was sitting with Roderick. She pulled out a Crown Silver and pressed into the Innkeeper's hand; it would likely be the biggest tip he would get this evening, save possibly for what he may or may not get from the Prince himself. She gave the excuse, "I would like to be away from the draft of the entrance please, but not so close to those two gentlemen as to seem as if I am ... available to be engaged in conversation. I'm really not her to be bothered."

The Innkeeper glanced back and up at Henry, then back at Claudia with wide eyes. He was obviously surprised she didn't recognize the Prince. She appeared to be of Noble rank, perhaps a Baroness or even a Countess. Shouldn't she recognize the Kingdom's Heir Apparent, even at this distance? Climbing even higher up the Peerage, a Marquise or Duchess would certainly know the Prince on sight as those such Greater Nobles engaged in many social dealings with the Royalty.

Thinking that perhaps the woman wasn't a Noble at all but was just the wife of some well-to-do Merchant, the Innkeeper kept quiet about Henry's identity, gave Claudia a respectful nod, and begged, "Please, m'lady, this way."

He led Claudia, Betty, and Lawrence to and up the short set of stairs ascending to the mezzanine. Nigel had excused himself for a moment to go speak to some shady characters sitting in the corner of the main floor, men who were part of his network of informants, men like those who had been tracking Henry for days, even weeks and months after the marriage had been publicly announced.

The Innkeeper helped the women into seats at a table that, like Henry's, looked down upon a stage. He took their order for drinks and food, then hurried off. Claudia looked to the scene below; a pair of women, scantily dressed, were aiding a juggler while a trio of musicians accompanied the act with simple but sometimes dramatic music. Occasionally, one or both of the women would engage with the juggler directly, sometimes contorting their bodies in ways that revealed the more private parts of their feminine shapes. These maneuvers tended to gain more applause and calls from the mostly male audience then did the juggler's skilled efforts, which Claudia realized was likely the only reason the juggler was on stage.

She scanned the tavern floor, looking for more of what Lawrence and Nigel had said were reasons for a Princess not to be at the Boarshead. It didn't take a genius to quickly realize that very few if any of the women sitting at the two dozen small tables filled with men were not wives of said men. Many of them were dressed in far fewer layers than a respectable woman would be, causing their feminine shapes to be more readily revealed, sometimes almost as much so as the women on the stage. There were at least a dozen women who were downright scantily dressed, with their bosoms boosted high and inward, almost to the point of bursting out for all to see.

Claudia's slow scanning of the tavern floor eventually led her to meet eyes with Prince Henry. She locked her gaze on his for a long moment ... then allowed her lips to spread in a bit of a flirty smile before she slightly nodded her head to him with respect.

And then, she pulled her eyes away from him and gave her attention back to the stage, just as the juggler was leaving to an almost non existent round of applause, followed a moment later by loud clapping and whistles and risqué suggestions from some of the male patrons.

The previous act was quickly replaced by an even more interesting one in Claudia's opinion. A pair of men with the most muscular, tight, perfect bodies she'd ever seen in her life emerged, wearing nothing but tights from their waists to their ankles; their manhoods -- which were hard to ignore -- were well defined and well displayed in the tightly fitting, thin cloth.

Claudia was surprised that the two men got a wild round applause from an audience of mostly more men ... until a moment later the pair were joined by six women who were dressed just as scandalously. The wore tiny, stretchy tops that were semi-sheer, cloth that barely hid their breasts from the audience and dramatically displayed the large, hardened nipples adorning said female features. They wore short skirts that covered them from waist to mid-thigh, which Claudia thought was scanty enough, but as the women began their act, the skirts were pulled higher up the tumblers' waists. The result was that when the young, shapely women performed cartwheels, backflips, splits, and more, their exposed womanhoods were often on fully display -- only for an instance in most cases -- to the patrons of the show, leading to loud, raucous hoots, hollers, and offers.

Coins began plinking upon the stage as the women and men worked together to give the most erotic performance Claudia had ever seen. At times, she felt awkward, at others fully embarrassed. She turned red at one point when each of the two massive men held a woman in his arms and twirled her, flashing the female tumblers' shaved crotches in such a way that they were more easily seen -- and enjoyed? -- by the patrons on the mezzanine.

After the show was over, and a dog show put on by an equally scantily dressed women began, Claudia looked over to Henry, meeting his eyes for a long moment before Betty pulled her attention away with some question she barely heard.

 

[Homerun2611]

It had been a rash decision, born in a combination of hurt, frustration, and very bruised ego. "Roderick, I want to go to the Boarshead, will you take me?" Henry had heard stories and rumors of the renowned establishment, but only a very homogenized version, as no one wanted to shock the virtuous, and until just recently, under age, Prince. There was also no chance Henry would have suggested it, even if he was curious, without his trusted friend by his side. He know that Roderick would know what to do, and if he were too uncomfortable, for any reason, Roderick would help him steal away. But really, how bad could it be? He knew that behavior could become boorish when people drank, and there were some performers that might border on bawdy, and of course there were supposedly ladies who could be procured for sexual relations, but Henry assume that to be exaggerated legend, but it didn't matter as that was not at all something Henry was considering.

He wanted a drink, he wanted to drink without the eyes of the entire court devouring him, and he might even get drunk. He had been dreading his wedding, even before Gwenn had showed up, but now it was unthinkable that he would have to bed another woman, when he had never even self pleasured previous. He saw heads turn as he rode into the town center, it was a special occasion whenever royalty was spotted in town. The Prince cut an intimidating presence, as he was larger and built in a manner unusual for his time, Roderick was also big and strong, so the two of them would have been imposing to say the least. "Where is it?" Henry asked as he wrongly thought it was just off the town's centre.

"It is a bit more well disguised..." Roderick said as he took the lead, the horses plodding along, as at first Henry's head was now on a swivel, receiving a crash course in Westumber eroticism. "Roderick did you...what are...Oh my, how is that possible..." Roderick couldn't help chuckle. Luckily Henry had somehow, shocked and disturbed, put on blinders and simply did not see the remaining shenanigans taking place in some of the alleys darker recesses. For Roderick it was a bit different, and in one spot two men were enthusiastically enjoying sodomy, Roderick could only gaze quickly with envy and then look away.

"Shhh, your Grace, it is best if you hold your comments and ...questions until we are safely inside." Henry nodded, but would not ask questions, more intent on simply forgetting than understanding. There was a type of maitre d', just inside, who momentarily halted Prince Henry and Lord Roderick. Their interaction was very brief as the man immediately recognized the Crown Prince. "Are you sure your Grace? This is not a place you have visited before, that I am aware..." Henry nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I am not sure you will enjoy the type of entertainment we provide."

The man was trying to be delicate and no offend the Prince, but his reputation was well known, as was the Boarshead, and two could not have been more different. "Do you have drink that I can buy? Do you have Musicians I can listen to? Entertainers who entertain?" The big, ferocious man found himself blushing, embarrassed. "Well yes, but not the type of entertainers you are likely used to."

Henry smile, "I appreciate your warning, and if it is not to my liking, we will not stay long." Roderick now stepped in, "Take us to the upper level, a bit more private table that looks down on the things below." The man quickly turned his head, "My Lord, that is where, do you know what happens up there?" Roderick laughed, "Yes, I do, but I am not talking about the third level, just the mezzanine overlooking the main stages." The third floor was the bordello, it would be a journey taken from the lower floor to the top, many times tonight, and every night. The world's oldest profession was alive and thriving at the Boarshead!

"We would like to be out of the primary fray, and the views of the happenings below I believe will allow the prince to see what you are alluding to." Henry listened, he had seen magicians and musicians hundreds of times in court, the best in the lands, what could be so different here? He would soon find out.

The man smiled, of course, shock the Prince with the panorama view of the sometimes scandalous acts, and he could decide for himself if anything interested him or not. Roderick pulled two gold coins, nearly a half year's pay for the big brute, and so they were led in and guided to the upstairs table, a ringside seat to the activities below.

The men had barely been seated, and despite being put above, outside of the main traffic, they found they were drawing as many if not more eyes than any of the entertainers. Henry did not notice, as his eyes were seeing things he could not believe. "Roderick look there...and there...Oh and there!" Similar to the various scenes Princess Claudia would describe later, Henry was appalled, and was ashamed to be a bit fascinated by the displays of nudity, and even simulated intimacy, things he had only vaguely knew took place, and for him could only happen between a man and woman in love and under the watchful eye of a benevolent God.

There was one red haired woman who while riding one man, dressed only in tights, like a warrior might his stallion, had also arched her body back and was apparently rubbing her nose in the stocking tights and erect manhood of another man with her mouth. "Roderick, the host may be right, this is...I don't think I belong here."

Perhaps it was the hair, or the fact he could not get Gwenn off is mind, but he found himself picturing her, and him, and...is that what she might look like if? He looked away, ashamed, how could he imagine his beloved so? "Increasingly Henry believed this was a mistake?" He softly spoke to Roderick, but his friend seemed to be watching two men do...well, things Henry had no idea that men could do together.

Suddenly Henry felt a soft hand on his shoulder. "It is not a mistake your Grace, in fact I believe it is destiny to brought you here and brought you to my table....Why don't we start you with a drink, or better yet a bottle, and then let me come back and show you some of the features that our place might have for you to enjoy?" Roderick ordered rum and Lucy was soon back with a bottle.

Henry was not sure if he cared for the taste, but by the time he had tipped back and nearly completed his third glass, he found he needed to keep a foot firmly on the ground to make the room not have a sense of spinning, and he seemed to be less interested in the happenings around him and more aware of a certain giddy sense of peacefulness that was overtaking him. Yet a question seemed to linger, was any of this what it would be like for him, when and if, he was with a woman?

Occasionally, he would find himself laughing for almost no reason at all. It was at this point Henry looked over Roderick's shoulder, and his eyes gravitated on a single image, a fair haired beauty who quite stood out from any other woman here. She had somehow been seated, with only a single empty table separating them. She was not in the garish make-up of most of the women here, and her dress was pretty but not revealing like so many others. There was a man and a woman with her, and the other woman was also pretty, but there was something about the one, she was special. Perhaps it was the effect of the drink, but the more he gazed, the more he felt his tights getting uncomfortable, as he felt his cock harden. Only one other woman, and it had been just two nights ago, had ever had this effect on him.

He tried to ignore it, he felt ashamed. This can't be, he thought. Really only one woman, the thought, and then the other night, had ever made him feel this hardness, this tingle, and now he felt it again, and he did not even know this woman. This was horrible, he felt as if he had somehow been unfaithful, yet it was only his eyes, and his bodies natural biological reaction at work.

"What is it Henry?" And Roderick brought him back to their table, breaking the spell of the fair haired temptress. He was certain their gaze had locked, but perhaps he was only being silly. "Oh nothing, just I saw someone, but it must be the drink!" It was then he saw Lucy heading back to their table.

He saw the smile on Lucy's face when when she reached their table, she seemed to have been waiting and watching their drinking and saw the bottle now half empty. "Your Grace, you seem to have enjoyed our refreshment, but we provide other pleasures that are far more...fulfilling, may I give you a tour?" Henry looked at Roderick who was about to answer when without thinking Henry heard a voice that it took him a second to realize was his own.

"That is very nice of you, but I am quite good here, but I was wondering...would you mind getting the folks at the table behind us, a round of drinks? Do you happen to know who they might be?"

Slowly Claudia would have seen first Roderick and then Lucy turn and look at them, "I have no idea..." The barmaid answered honestly. "But if that's what you want?"

She turned and walked over to their table, and Roderick looked at Henry, who truly didn't know why he had just done what he had. He found he couldn't stop looking at her.... Up further inspection, she was even more beautiful. He was attracted, but tried to deny it to himself. His mother had warned him about avoiding temptation, and only now did he have any idea to what she may have referred.

Is that what she was, temptation? Oh he shouldn't be tempted, he had his Gwenn, and he was about to be married. What was it about this brown liquid in this bottle that made him suddenly deaf to the inner voice that had always faithfully guided him...She was looking right at him, smiling, and once again, his body lead the way. Albeit stumbling a bit as he got up, Henry headed toward the table to introduce himself...for that seemed the proper thing to do...or so the slightly tipsy inner voice now said he should do....

 

[ToniTaylor]

Claudia had indeed come to realize that she was the topic of conversation at Henry's table after he, the man escorting him, and the hostess -- or whore? -- each took their turn studying her. The woman then came to Claudia's table, saying, "Good evening, m'Ladies, m'Lord, I am Lucy..."

The raven haired beauty looked to Claudia and finished without including Betty and Lawrence in the offer, "...and the gentleman at the table behind me would like the honor of buying you a drink, if you would permit."

Lucy said nothing of that gentleman being the future ruler of all that surrounded the Boarshead, of course. Had Lucy assumed Claudia was already well aware of Henry's identity? Or had she simply been leaving introductions to Henry himself? No, in truth, Lucy was hoping Claudia didn't now know or wouldn't learn later just who the Prince was. It was the dream of many a whore or other ambitious young woman to have a wealthy Noble or -- dare one say it out loud -- Royal male plant his seed inside her fertile womb and thus secure the future for herself and her child.

And right now, Lucy's womb was ready; she was in her Moon and all she needed was to mount Henry in some dark back room while the Prince's man Roderick, Lucy's well respected Madam Lady Georgina, and at least a half a dozen others who were nearby were able to swear out that they had witnessed the pair engage in sexual intercourse. Oh, the child would be a bastard and would never be included in the succession to the Throne of Westumber, but even a bastard child -- and its mother -- were provided for in great comfort by the Law of the Land ... and, of course, Lady Georgina would get a monthly payment for keeping the whole thing quiet.

Before Claudia could answer one way or the other about the offer of a drink from Henry, Lucy leaned over closer and added with a soft, playful warning, "I must inform m'Lady that the gentleman is a bit drunk. I don't know if you have any experience with men who drink...?"

Claudia looked into barmaid/whore's eyes, wondering suddenly the same thing Lucy had wondered about her, whether or not she knew who the Prince of Westumber was. Or -- as was very true -- was this black haired woman wanting to keep her very special patron all to herself for the evening? But as it was, Henry was already making his way over to Claudia's table, something Lucy noticed as well. The barmaid stood tall again, backed a step away, and lowered her head, for a moment, showing the respect a Prince deserved and letting Claudia know that she had indeed known the man's status.

As Henry had been taking those ten or twelve small steps her way, Claudia had looked to Lawrence -- who'd been standing out of the way -- and gestured him forward. She was pretending to not know Henry's identity, so -- as any woman of noble birth would in such a situation -- she had her Protector step forward to ... well, protect her. And, as it would happen, Roderick -- Henry's protector -- did the same.

So, when all stopped moving about, Lawrence and Roderick were face to face standing, while Claudia and Betty -- still sitting, of course -- were looking up at the gently teetering Henry, while off to the side Lucy wore an expression telling all that her evening had just gotten fucked but that she likely wasn't to be.

"Would you like to sit with us, sir," the Princess of Sutherlan asked the Prince of Westumber with a kind tone, adding playfully, "before you topple over?"

As she waited for his response, Claudia extended her hand, backside up to be held, kissed, or both, adding, "I am Countess Flora de Wilde ... and who would you be, sir?"

She used sir for the second time rather than m'Lord, indicating that she doubted he was a true Noble and was more likely a well-to-do Merchant or even the son of such a wealthy but untitled man. Claudia simply wanted to see if Henry would introduce himself as who he actually was. Did he have any reservations about being in such a place as this? He did, but Claudia wasn't aware of that, was she?

Would he have any reservations of introducing himself as the Heir Apparent while in an establishment where -- at this very moment -- a nearly naked woman was performing slow but skillful cartwheels across the stage that were fully exposing her womanhood just long enough to drive the male patrons mad with delight and sexual yearning?

Would he think that revealing himself for who he actually was might get this female stranger to go upstairs with him for a roll in a well used bed? Was he even after that? Claudia knew he was, even if Henry didn't quite yet. He was a man, after all. Warm, wet pussy was all every man wanted. Well ... Roderick.

Claudia let her gaze drop to her offered hand, with which Henry hadn't yet dealt, then looked back up to him with a flirty, expectant smile. She was having fun.

 

[ToniTaylor]

(OOC: For anyone who's been following our story, we have rewritten posts 8-10 to lighten the story's erotic nature. If you have been reading along, you will want to reread those 3 replies again. Sorry for this. It was my decision, not Homerun's.)

 

[Homerun2611]

Henry's goal had been simple, in a building full of on-going debauchery he could not quite comprehend, the woman whose eyes he met, and did not want to let go, represented normalcy, beauty and even wholesomeness where otherwise it did not seem to exist here. So what did Henry do, he did what he had been conditioned by his mother to do. While his mind was buzzing with the infamiliarity of drink, he took refuge in the memory of her instruction.

"Henry a woman, really any woman, but particularly a young woman, is a flower, the younger the more time she will require to bloom and the more she must be nurtured. She needs, even thrives on your attention and nourishment. Treat her tenderly, inhale her scent, admire her beauty, and do your best to protect her from the elements that nature might otherwise cruelly enforce upon her."

When he had looked across and over Roderick's shoulder and gazed upon the vision of Princess Claudia, even though he had no idea that there was his betrothed, he saw a flower in elements he felt she did not belong, perhaps even less than he did, but with nowhere near the ability to protect herself...therefore Henry would offer to be that shield.

The room whirled a bit when he stood up and he took a few small steps in an attempt to regain surer footing. "Your Grace, do you believe standing, and even more so walking, is in your best interest right now?" Roderick spoke quietly as he would never want to embarrass his highness and his best and dearest friend. However, Henry ignored him, as so often he had in battle, throwing himself willingly into harm's way, with a single minded focus of protecting everyone but himself.

However, when Roderick turned and got a much closer look at the target of Henry's chivalry he was pleased. Pleased that any woman could take his mind off of Gwenn, pleased that another woman could catch his eye at all. Yet as Henry took another step, and the women's protector stood up, Roderick made a connection that was beyond Henry's impaired faculties at the moment. This woman was dressed slightly more plain than he might of expected, had to be a noble, but it was odd he did not recognize who?

Now, the Prince was not used to having to explain himself as he passed or addressed anyone, but this man was clearly there to stop any unwanted advances. Typically Henry was fast and deft with his movements, but luckily the rum had made him plodding and Roderick quickly moved in front of him squaring up against the brute protecting the lady. Henry tilted to one side then the other, he was a bit perturbed by the traffic jam impeding his advance to his destination.

Henry tottered around the two men facing off, and somehow still standing made his way to the beautiful woman. He nodded in appreciation to the barmaid's bow and then found himself face to face with Claudia. The conundrum was, having successfully navigated his way over, he had no idea what to say. Never in his life had he approached a woman at a tavern. Fortunately, she took the lead, "Would you like to sit with us, sir...before you topple over?" Henry at first looked at her, was she making fun of him? And then he smiled, as he most definitely deserved to be made fun of.

"I would M'lady...very much so!" He watched her extend her hand, and he most certainly knew what to do, but was less certain of the body control to accomplish it, and thus hesitated momentarily. Of course he was the Prince and was used to individuals announcing themselves to him, not the contrary. "I am Countess Flora de Wilde ... and who would you be, sir?"

Henry took the delicate soft hand, in his slightly rough and strong one, but as he began to bow down, he felt an uncomfortable surge, and the resulting hiccup. He was mortified. He was momentarily frozen mid bow. "I'm...I'm so sorry...please excuse me.." His face was crimson in embarrassment, and his eyes looked up to see her reaction before continuing down to softly and gentlemanly place a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

"Countess, I am Henry Rothchild, Crowned Prince of Westumber, Son of King James...this is my first time visiting the Boarshead, I must admit I have never been here before, I guess I did not realize the nature of the entertainment provided. So pardon me, I do not recognize you...do you...frequent this establishment?" The implications of the answer and resulting question were clear. Henry was embarrassed to be seen here, shocked by that going on around him, but even more surprised that a woman like the Countess would be here either?

Standing back up, he gently let go of her hand, and then sliding his fingertips across her shoulders, for balance as much as anything, although he could not deny the spark it rendered, within, moved around to sit down beside her in the now vacant chair. Henry motioned to the barmaid again, "Wil you take me up on my offer for drinks for you and your friends....however, I think I might need to switch to water."

Now sitting next to her, he could better see her long and lovely frame, her delicate shoulders, and her near perfect profile. Henry couldn't help but admire her beauty, something that was so new and odd for him. "Truly Countess, I am surprised we have not met before, for if we had, I am most certain I would not forget. Nor am I familiar with the House of der Wilde? Are you visiting here, is your home part of a different realm?"

Roderick could barely believe what he was seeing. The Prince was a bit taken with her. She had flirted, teased, and he had enjoyed it all, and what was more, he did not seem to be able to take his eyes off of her. "I am most curious, what brings a woman like you, here?" He raised his hand denoting the various ribald acts which seemed to only be getting more risque with every new act on any of the stages. Why exactly Henry asked the next question, he did not know, yet something inside of him was obviously curios, "My I ask the countess, are you married?"

Roderick was shocked the Prince asked, yet somehow took comfort that he was curious? He couldn't help but notice both he, and all other members of the table seemingly leaned in awaiting the answer?

 

[ToniTaylor]

When he took her hand in his, Claudia could feel the effect the excess of alcohol was having on him. His fingers were ill placed in relation to her own, his grip a bit tight, then suddenly lighter as he must have realized his error; he was still teetering a bit and then he hiccupped. Claudia had to suppress a giggle.

"I'm...I'm so sorry...please excuse me.."

His face was red as a rose, and beside Claudia, Betty had to turn her head as she did giggle. Under the table, the Princess tried to gently kick her Lady's Maid but instead struck the table's central support, unintentionally causing a candle bowl to tip up on edge and begin a slow but steadily accelerating spiral until it finally came to a stop once again.

"Countess, I am Henry Rothchild, Crowned Prince of Westumber, Son of King James..."

Claudia smiled a bit wider at Henry's introduction. He obviously had no concern about admitting that he, the betrothed and -- presumably -- innocent and virginal Prince of Westumber was to be found in such a place. Or ... was it the drink, and he simply wasn't at this moment conscious of the stories that would be -- or already were -- circulating around the city of Sumberland?

He continued, "...this is my first time visiting the Boarshead, I must admit I have never been here before, I guess I did not realize the nature of the entertainment provided."

Claudia found herself torn over how she should react to Henry announcing his title. Protocol said that she -- a Lesser Noblewoman or even less -- should rise and curtsey to the Heir Apparent of Westumber. To not do so would indicate one of two things: a lack of respect which she certainly did not want to project or an equality in titles between her and Henry of which she also did not want him to know.

She chose to try to distract him and his escort from that thought by looking out over the railing to the stage below and say, "The entertainment is interesting ... and a bit risqué, I must admit."

"So pardon me, I do not recognize you..." Henry continued looking for her identity. Before she address that, he asked another personal question, "...do you...frequent this establishment?"

Recalling that Henry had said he'd never been to the Boarshead, Claudia lied, "This is my fourth or fifth visit I believe."

She heard someone clear their throat, and looking beyond Henry she caught Lucy giving her that liar, liar expression. Claudia casually leaned nearer to Betty and whispered into her ear, "Take care of our hostess."

Betty understood what that meant. She gestured Lawrence to help her from her chair, then curtseyed to Henry, saying, "Please excuse me, My Grace."

She curled around the table to stand directly before Lucy and pressed a pair of Crown Silvers into the woman's hand as she asked, "Could you show me to the Ladies' Lounge?"

Lucy looked to Claudia after checking the value of the bribe for her silence, then cryptically said, "It's a bit of a walk ... more of a walk than you would imagine."

Betty looked back to her Lady for a sign, and getting a nod, pressed two more coins into the raven haired woman's hand, all out of sight of the males standing behind her. A moment later, Lucy led Betty off, with the latter looking back with a smile and winking to the Princess.

With all that done, Henry released his hold on Claudia's hand and curled around behind her to sit. It wasn't proper for a man to touch a woman he'd only met as Henry did Claudia as he passed around behind her. But he did, and she said nothing of it. The setting -- a tavern with erotic acts inappropriate for this pair to be viewing -- and the ruse Claudia was conducting made reacting to such touch a confusing topic.

Not only that ... but she enjoyed it. The feel of his fingers upon her shoulders and neck -- even as brief as it was -- sent a chill up her spine and caused her to clench the muscles of her groin as her yearning womanhood recalled the activities in which it had partaken oh so long ago.

Yearning...? It wasn't really until now that Claudia realized that she was as sexually excited at the Prince's proximity as the erection-suffering Henry was at hers. She suddenly began to realize that coming here -- as the others had warned -- had probably been a bad idea.

"Will you take me up on my offer for drinks for you and your friends?" Henry inquired. Knowing he'd exceeded his limit, he added, "However, I think I might need to switch to water."

Lawrence, who -- like Roderick -- had backed off a step by now to give Claudia and Henry some space, caught hold of another server as she passed. He requested a pitcher of water with glasses for all, as well as a bottle of wine -- he had to list 6 before she confirmed having what he wanted -- as well as Henry's half emptied bottle of Rum from the nearby table.

Henry returned to the identity crisis regarding Claudia, saying, "Truly Countess, I am surprised we have not met before, for if we had, I am most certainly would not forget. Nor am I familiar with the House of der Wilde? Are you visiting here, is your home part of a different realm?"

"I thank you for the compliment, My Grace," Claudia responded, confirming that she did indeed believe he was who he claimed to be. "If you and I had met before, I'm sure I would have recognized you as well."

The hostess returned with the bottle of Rum, then departed to retrieve the other requested items.

Claudia continued, "In regards to my House, I would not expect you to recognize the name, for we come from south of the Strait of Continents ... from Sutherlan."

She hesitated just a moment for Henry's reaction, and before he could respond verbally she continued, "My mother's father was a hero from the Highland Wars from before the time of my birth. He died soon afterward, but in recognition of his bravery, King Roland knighted my grandfather's only son ... my father."

Lucy and Betty were suddenly back again, with the former carrying the water and glasses and the latter carrying the bottle of wine; the other hostess had been dismissed by the raven haired one as quickly as Lucy had found her horning in on Prince Henry.

"I am most curious, what brings a woman like you, here?" Henry asked, gesturing toward the Boarshead's entertainment.

With a sly smirk, Claudia didn't hesitate to ask, "What brings a man like you here ... My Grace?"

They stared into one another's eyes for a moment, and Claudia smiled wider again at the obvious effects of the alcohol on Henry's body. His eyes were glassy, his body still continued to sway, though only the slightest and only noticeable because of Claudia's nearness to him. But more than all that, he seemed more ... intimate in that nearness and -- while he might not have realized it -- in the way his gaze sometimes fell to her uplifted bosom for just the briefest of moments.

Then he surprised her and some of the others: "My I ask the countess, are you married?"

Claudia had options now.

She could say yes and -- even more so -- add happily. That would likely disappoint Henry and, with an appropriate amount of farewell time, cause him to flee back to his table or even far from the establishment. Claudia most definitely did not want that.

She could say no but that she was betrothed, or that her Noble father was in negotiations to marry her off to some Noble or Noble's son. Claudia had been told that Henry was still an Innocent, which meant he wouldn't likely jump on an opportunity to have some intimate fun with a woman prior to her being sold off to another man for political gain. But then, Henry had finished off most of a half of a bottle of Rum and just might think he had to at least take a chance, particularly if the woman upon whom he had his aim might want to know the same pleasures that were, at this time, unknown to Henry.

She could simply say no and see where that went. That was dangerous, of course, but then Claudia had come here in the search of danger, hadn't she? What did she think was going to happen when she came face to face with her betrothed when he wasn't aware of who she herself was?

Her answer -- and the comment that followed it -- was driven by the true reason for her venture to the Boarshead: to learn more about her Betrothed as a man. But before she responded, Claudia looked up to her Protector and said, "Lawrence, my good man. Will you do me a kindness ... you, too, if Your Grace does not mind."

That last part was spoken to Roderick, and as the Prince's friend and Protector realized he was being addressed, Claudia continued, "Would you two fine, strong gentleman escort my Lady's Maid about the tavern. She was curious about some of the acts and other features--"

"I was?" Betty said with surprise.

Claudia laid a hand upon the girl's thigh under the table to silence her, continuing, "But I would be in fear of her honor if she was to be seen touring such a place without a proper male escort of two or more."

The looks on the faces of all three of them were comical, but after a moment more prodding and looking to Henry for support, Roderick was leading Betty and then Lawrence off into the crowd of the mezzanine. Betty understood that Claudia wanted privacy with the Prince, even though that was unadvisable, so once they reached the top of the stairs, she would request to be escorted to the main floor, out of sight of the two Royals.

Once they were alone, Claudia told Henry, "No, My Grace. I am not married. But ... I hear you are about to be."

She hesitated just a moment to ensure that Henry knew that Claudia knew of the marriage ceremony. She leaned in a bit closer to her Betrothed, and with a soft, intimate tone, asked, "Which brings us back to the question I asked earlier ... a question you are yet to answer, My Grace. What brings you to a House of Ill Repute, just 10 days before you are to be wed?"

Again, Claudia hesitated only a moment, then got a bit more familiar by saying, "Please, Henry ... be honest with me. I'm curious. In the south, we are told that you are pure of mind and body."

She looked down to the stage again, then back to the Prince before laughing. "After the Boarshead, you can no longer claim -- no one can claim -- to be pure of mind. But ... pure of body? If that is so ... are you hoping to leave this place tonight not so?"

Claudia didn't know whether Henry would answer the question or not. And even if he did, would his answer be one from his mind, his heart, his body, or his half empty bottle of Rum? Could Claudia trust the truth of the answer considering the younger man's level of intoxication ... his reduction in inhibitions?

She couldn't know any of this, and as if to fully make his answer a test, Claudia asked before Henry could respond, "Who's Gwenn?"

That caused a reaction, and Claudia suddenly wondered whether or not she should have waited to get her answers to the previous question before making that inquiry. She explained, "You know how palace gossip is sometimes. I know that your Betrothed is the Princess Claudia of the House of Sutherlan, so ... I'm just wondering whether or not there is any truth to the rumors that your heart actually belongs to another ... this Gwendolyn."

Claudia reached a hand out, making the first physical contact after the gentle touch of Henry's fingers to her bare shoulders. "You do not have to answer me if you do not wish, My Grace. It was an inappropriate inquiry. Forgive me. Please ... let's share the wine and forget I said anything at all."