Time to think is a good thing

You stand frozen for a long while, not daring to move; eventually, as the minutes pass, you begin to mull over her suggestion. It's true that having her as your consort would bring near insurmountable problems. **** has never been looked on kindly in Motania; it tends to provoke isolation and independence among the nobles, while the crown promotes co-operation and inter-support. Further, it has the proven history of producing children with magical talent more often. Though you're well aware it's far from every instance, it's still an added 'drawback'. Since magic also has a tendency to flow within bloodlines, any child of yours already has an increased chance of gaining 'the gift'. In this regard your coupling with a blood relative is like throwing dry wood on a flame; the odds of it catching fire are very high indeed. Yet, as uncommon as the practice might be, it's not rare. However, such a close pairing hasn't been heard of in quite some time.

Not since the subjugation of the mages, and the founding of the Coven.

You take another gulp of wine, and the other side of the coin hits you. As it stands your list of possible consorts is limited. Most of the more prestigious nobles wish to keep their daughters away from you due to your magical talents. Further, several more have estates far enough away that they wouldn't consider a union with the Frostpeaks to bear any real benefits to their lands. 'The fools', you think. The only lords who seek an arrangement with The White Spire are those lowly nobles who, despite your magical affinity, would gain significant status with an alliance so close to the crown. Such would only seek to use you for their own benefit, and weaken your position.

A brief pause hits you and you can't help but compare yourself to your father when he was your age; your positions are quite reversed. As a young man your father was, aside from the king, the most eligible bachelor in the entire kingdom. Every lord in the land, and several from neighboring kingdoms desired an allegiance with the Duke of the Frostpeaks. When he chose to marry your mother, a complete mystery woman, it caused a huge uproar and took every ounce of his considerable political clout to have His Majesty give his blessing to their union. Your mother made many enemies that day; yet ironically it would probably take you far less effort to get Bryce's blessing to marry her.

Then you stop.

What she is suggesting is ludicrous! She's your mother! She birthed you!

As you take another long sip of wine and gaze at her for a moment, those concerns fade but do not dissipate. She's turned towards you slightly and once again you're struck by her sheer awe inspiring feminine beauty. Even in her mockery of a dress... especially in her mockery of a dress, her figure stands out as an example to all women. Her perfect hourglass form, her flat toned stomach, her long smooth legs, her massive round breasts, her amazing heart-shaped behind, her age-defying body is beyond compare of any woman you have ever met! She is, in your eyes, the very definition of womanly physical perfection; and now your rock hard staff throbs at the mere thought of her.

Yet it's not just her body that you find alluring. You know from experience she's clever, crafty, cunning, in nearly all matters of politics. Lord Endwin may know the people of the Frostpeaks like no other, but your mother seems to have her finger on the pulse of the whole kingdom. The people consider your father to have been a great statesman and yet you know he wouldn't have been half as good as he was without the help of your mother. Having her as your duchess would surely be nothing but an aid to your reign as duke.

It is then that your mother turns to you completely, and there's a look in her eye that forces a final realization upon you. She's right. No woman would ever love you as much as she does. No woman would ever be as devoted to you as she is. You could do anything with her by your side. You could do anything to her and she would not deny you.

A shiver runs up your spine. Time, time was something that you needed right now. It would grant you the opportunity to fully examine the outcome of such a coupling, and you find yourself thankful for her clarity of thought.

You down the rest of your goblet, and pay no heed when she downs the rest of hers with you. You set your empty cup down on the tray still holding jug and straighten yourself. You regard her again and are somewhat curious to find the corner of her mouth turned up and a glimmer of... satisfaction? achievement? on her face.

"There's no need for salvage mom." You say finally, making a point to use the more affectionate term that you so rarely use now. "There is nothing in this world that could ever... damage my affection for you." That much at least is true.

Her smile turns bright and once again that motherly warmth surrounds her, "I'm glad my son."

With that there is a slight ease in tension, "Thank you for the wine," you say "but I should take my leave. You've given me a lot to think about." You pause briefly and then add, "And I have little time before my lesson with Adrianna."

At the mention of your instructor, her expression hardens, and you fight back a wince. It is perhaps not the best thing to say to her after what has just happened. "That..." she says pointedly, "is a waste of time. There's nothing that witch can teach you that you don't already know."

You don't feel like rehashing this argument again, certainly not now. "I'm sorry mom. I..." You shake your head, "I shouldn't have said anything."

She let's out a breath and nods, no doubt knowing that this isn't the time. Although her jaw is still tight and she can't resist one last jive. "Just... don't trust her my love. She's first, last and always an agent of the Coven, and I'm certain she seeks to use you to further their purposes."

Though you're not sure how much truth there is to that, you're in no mood to start anything right now. Instead you simply nod and then make your way towards the door. Once you reach and pull the handle opening the heavy wooden hatch you pause and turn back to her one last time, "Mom..." Her eyes haven't left you and you give her the most considerate expression you can. "I love you."

She breathes deep at that and gives you a smile back, "I love you too babe."

With that you step out the door and close it behind you.

You have a lot of thinking to do.