Investigate Lady Vessa's Chambers

Two bored-looking guards stand in front of the door leading to Lady Vessa's chambers. "The investigation is continuing, milord." The skinny-looking of the both announced and opened the door. A small corridor opens up behind it, lit by strange white lights in ceramic bowls dangling from the ceiling. You nod to the guards and enter. It looks clean, too clean almost. No dust, no nothing. The door is closed shut with a silent thud behind you. Following your instincts, you take the first door to the left. Her private chamber, her bed, some elvish furniture she imported, paintings on the wall, books, exotic and esoteric objects on the stands and shelves. You wonder if...

Going on your knees, you look beneath the bed and find two small, wooden boxes. Locked, and none of your keys fit. You fumble around a bit with the locks and the mechanism, but it does not seem to budge at all. You hear a muffled cry from somewhere, and jump to your feet. Back out on the corridor again, you listen for a while, then open the next door silently...

And peek into mage's library and office. What you see takes your breath away. Like a mule kick in the stomach. The office is flooded with warm, golden light, the sun's last rays for this day. Tiny dust motes dance softly in the rays between the light and the deep shadow the high book shelves cast. Bend over Lady Vessa's table is your wife, her dress pushed up, one breast swinging freely, her black hair a mess. Constable Sir Jermon Kaller is standing behind her, his belt open. He gropes her breast with his left and holding her right arm bent back with his other. You can hear and smell the sound of their rough sex as they fuck each other with abandon, your wife's hips bucking back against the loins of the man that you thought to be the most honorable and stern man in this Keep and all the lands around it. Damned be it all, that unkempt, gruff-yet-friendly man was your idol when you were younger. Now his hair is showing the first signs of grey.

Your wife looks over her shoulder at him and moans encouraging at him. "Fill me up, Jermon...ah yeah...fuck me harder, constable...hmmm...oh yes, harder, harder!..." Shocked, you watch the rugged man fucking into your pregnant wife with abandon, then finally grunting and releasing his seed inside your wife with a thrust that send her sprawling over the table, knocking down parchments, books and inkwells alike. Jermon pulls back, his seed and her juices dripping to the floor. He gives your wife a good slap on the arse.