Isabelle

King Biche nodded to the hooded figure that was presented as his daughter. Her head turned to the side and saw her king’s permission.

Her arms pulled up to her hood, and I could see slender and feminine fingers at the ends of her warm cloak. She grabbed the hood and pulled it back and off her head. Elle tensed as she saw what I saw.

Raven black tresses flowed out and over her shoulders, her hair had curls in it and fell over her back. She lifted her head up to look at me and I was stunned by her beauty, the rumours were true.

I could see why there were stories of her appearance, even with the bevvy of gorgeous women I had, Isabelle had them beat. She was even more beautiful than Elle, and that was something I found hard to admit to.

Her features were angelic, innocent yet sultry all rolled into one. Her lips were plump and glistened, and I imagined them wrapped around my cock. Her face was heart shaped, making her look elegant and emphasised her femininity. Her nose was cute and small, perfectly symmetrical and no hard ridges about it. Her eyes held a striking and vibrant turquoise colour, which immediately drew your gaze to them. And in those eyes I saw adoration, and they were fixed on me. She looked me over, taking in every detail of my visage.

She took a small intake, as if momentarily becoming breathless at the sight of me. And her cheeks started to redden, was she blushing?

“Introduce yourself.” King Biche reminded her.

She jumped slightly, as if realising there were other people in the room. She blinked quickly and composed herself, fluttering her long eyelashes at me.

She curtseyed, holding onto the skirts of her long cloak, eyes down to the floor and her head low. Once she rose again she seemed to gain some confidence.

“My king.” Her voice was refined and graceful, and she shared the same accent as her father. “My name is Isabelle Biche, princess to the Feconde kingdom. I have awaited this moment for so long.”

“Have you?” I smiled at her, and she blushed again.

“Indeed.” She spoke, looking at me with conviction, and returning the smile. “I have heard many stories of the wolvir across the sapphire coasts. Of how a strong and mighty wolvir named Fen, united his people and became their king. And of how he led them to many victories, and made the wolvir stronger.”

She must be recounting of the wolvir civil war, and how I killed the previous king. And of the war with the Ghanral, and the other victories I had secured after that.

“You know of my accomplishments?” I said to her. “I am impressed that you know so much about me.”

I know so much about you, my king.” Her excitement evident to me. “And I have admired you from afar since I heard of you.”

Her father chuckled.

“She talks of you almost non-stop, king Fen.”

“Does she now?” I was surprised.

“Yes. She has refused every suitor I have suggested. She does not wish to marry any of them. She has begged me to arrange this proposal, in hopes that you would marry her.”

“How persistent of her.” I liked that about her, she knows what she wants, and aims to get it. “So, Isabelle? I have you to thank for this marriage proposal?”

“Yes, my king. I wish nothing more than to be your mate.” She told me.

“Do you know of my culture?” I was intrigued that she said mate instead of bride.

“I do. I have researched your culture, and your religion. I am willing to adopt your ways if that’s what it takes to be your mate.”

“And you’re ok with this?” I ask her father.

“I admit, I was against the idea at first. But then, I realised that your kingdom is a strong one. I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity to be aligned with you. And also, I can’t refuse the wishes of my only daughter.” The king explained.

“I suppose we should talk terms before an agreement is made.” I said whilst rubbing my furred maw. “But that can wait until tomorrow. First, we will have a feast. And both of you are my honoured guests.”