"Me?!"

The corners of Asle's mouth very briefly twitch upwards before . "Yes," she says, loudly slamming the book in her hands closed and placing it and then her reading glasses on the nightstand next to the couch, "You."

As I am still trying to fight down both nerves and confusion, she sharply commands, "Sit."

My body moves automatically, headed for a chair across from her but I stop as she holds up a hand. "No. Sit. Here."

The Queen indicates the other end of the couch, her intense gaze and sharp tone overpowering every part of my mind and soul telling me that this would be a horrible breach of decorum even for another high ranking royal. Yet, here I am breaching decorum despite being something far from high ranking. I mean, I'm not a peasant or servant either but STILL...

If anyone else saw this, I'm sure they would think my head would need to be removed immediately for thinking I belonged sitting at an even level, but Asle instead gives me a brief smile and approving nod of her head before returning to her all business state. "I take it, from this reaction, your parents did not inform you of my impending visit."

"Mother only informed me that an important guest for the Duke was arriving today, your Majesty," I reply, "and that the Duke wished for me to be extra careful to remain in my wing of the house so as not to potentially interrupt the proceedings."

A flicker of a displeased shadow crosses Asle's expression for a moment at my words. "Even though I made it QUITE clear--" she starts to growl under her breath before shaking her head and saying much more audibly, "Is this because you are what you humans call a 'Bastard'?"

Even though I am not drinking anything, I still let out a **** noise at the unexpectedly to-the-point question. Also, in case it was not clear based on how I referred to them, the Queen is correct. The Duchess is indeed my mother... but the Duke is not my father. I actually do not know anything about my actual father, as one of the conditions for the Duke to forgive mother for her indiscretion, and to let her keep me, was to never speak of the man ever again. I presume I have his eyes though, as mine look nothing like any those on my mother's side of the family have. It is why I let my hair grow longer than normal in the front, so that it can cover or at least cast a shadow over those eyes and hide them from easy view.

All that said, there is no point in denying it. But that raises a new question. "How... How do you know?"

"Around ten years ago or so, I sensed a certain life **** here in the middle of a rather boring party," Asle explains, a strange glimmer entering her eyes, "A life **** we Dark Elves consider very important. I asked around the party as to the source, heard vague rumors, had a quiet investigation performed afterwards where I discovered the host of that party had a secret child he was needlessly ashamed of. I let the Duke know I would keep his secret. But only long enough for that child to reach an appropriate adult age, where I would come for him."

"And here you are?" I ask.

"And here I am," she confirms.

Life ****? What could she possibly mean by that? I know a little magic thanks to some of the books I have read over the years, but based on the results given by the examiner mother brought in when I first showed the ability, I don't exactly have the deepest wells of magical power to draw on. I keep myself in shape and self-train with a sword just in case but I don't think I've shown any special aptitude for physical combat either that would show through in a reading of my life ****.

"Tell me," she says, and it is only now that I notice that, at some point during the conversation, she has started inching her way across the couch towards me and now sits much closer than before, "What is your life?"

She leans forward ever so slightly as she waits for my answer, giving me an even better view of her massive cleavage than I already had with her casual posture before. It provides a confusingly arousing distraction, along with the soft, floral scent of her lavender perfume that makes me feel light headed, as I wonder where she is even going with this question. My life is... what is my life?

I don't go outside much, as most everything I need is provided here. Books, clothing, food, comfort, a loving mother, half-siblings who... mostly tolerate me (and I cannot help but wonder if the Duke had wanted a chance to convince the Queen to go with one of them for whatever she was here for instead of someone not truly related to him), and... that was it.

Again, my pondering draws my attention away from Queen Asle enough that I miss when she draws closer to me still and do not notice again until she places her warm, soft hand on my chest. I jump slightly at the unexpected contact and she leans in further, her large breasts pressing against my arm as she whispers in my ear, "I ask because, if your life is one you are fine with, then I am sad to say I am taking you away from it. But if you are not, then I am happy to say I am giving you freedom from it."

Her tongue flicks out, teasing my earlobe and sending a chill down my spine as her next soft-but-husky words blow over my saliva slicked skin.

"For, by my royal decree and the agreement of your nations King and your mother Duchess, YOU have been chosen as a Brood Father. MY Brood Father."

My penis all but instantly jumps to attention at the Queen's news and actions. I would have to be one of those men completely uninterested in women at all for arousal to not be part of my response. However, as I mentally digest it, a second emotion begins to grow in response to that pronouncement. One that I think has been inside of me for a long time and may give her the answer to her question.