To the castle

Ah, the grand castle, the home to the most miserable bitches you’ve ever seen, and most of those bitches had quite the grudge against you, seeing as your the king’s bastard.

You notice there is quite the stretch of nobles waiting for you outside the castle and you groan, it seems you must deal with this castle bullshit first before dishing out rightful punishment to those who made you miserable.

You step out of the carriage once it has come to a stop and nearly jump in suprise as the naked bitch falls to her knees and pleads with you

“Please my king, I beg of you, no more, I have learned my lesson I swear it” she pants looking slightly delirious.

It suddenly occurs to you, you didn’t stop nor offer the bitch any water on this hot day and her **** 4 hour run.

How cruel of you my king.

Acting with swiftness you shout “someone bring this bitch inside! And get her some water! Heal her injuries and see that she is brought back to full health!”

As king, people rush to do your bidding for once.

“My king,” a tall dark skinned man approaches you with a puzzled look on his face.

He is Lord Muzzle, head of the wolf faction of the furry race.

“My king,” he begins again after the woman was brought inside, his wolf ears twitching in uncertainty “what has happened to her?”

Making sure your voice is loud enough for all the gathered nobles to hear you simply reply “I will not tolerate disrespect in any form, from anyone, regardless of rank, social standing, or race.”

“O-of course not my king!” Lord Muzzle exclaims his face filled with horror, no doubt wondering at the damage his subordinate did.

Another Lord approaches.

This one is Lord Esles, he is of the Elvish race, a very thin people with skin that mostly came in varying shades of green. His was an ugly lime green color.

“My King, the Lords, myself included, would like to know when we could expect an heir?” He asked politely.

It makes sense that their first concerns were for an heir, it wasn’t unusual for a king to go missing or end up dead if they had a bad rule or weren’t liked by the people(or nobles). It was common practice in the kingdom for the king to have many legitimate sons, and many, many more bastards (where you come from). Although none of them became eligible for the throne until their father was crowned king, so generally the nobles wanted at least a confirmed pregnancy before the coronation.

“My king, if I may?” Lord Muzzle asks and you nod giving him permission to speak “princess Quinn, the youngest of the late kings legitimate daughters is of a ripe child bearing age.”

He speaks true my king, princess Quinn is Lord Muzzle’s granddaughter and rumored to be a bunny furry, although she doesn’t leave the castle much.

In truth tradition states that your first born must come from the previous ruling lineage, so you COULD pick any of your half sisters, or even your stepmother to bear your first born.

Your stepmother is rather young, in the middle of her child bearing years, being that she is of the fae race her birthing years last longer. She always did make your life miserable when you came here, was absolutely disgusted by your presence. How would it feel to **** her to bear your child?

Or perhaps you have a sweetheart from back home to bear your first born and become your queen?

Then again, who is to say you only have to pick one of them?

The choice is yours my king, the power is in your hands now.