In your favor, but with an unexpected surprise.

You didn’t sleep throughout the night, and it was at the peak hours of it that Princess Clara retired into her bedchambers. The earliest light from the sun was now reaching over the horizon and it revealed a soggy city-scape from the torrential downpour that lasted several hours during the night. Now, it was mostly clear out, and the battle in the city had quieted into a few small pockets of resistance by some of the Countess’ most loyal knights that had been caught inside the city walls. You sat on the throne of a great hall, with Duke Gregan at your side. Clara and the other women of the Royal family no doubt catching up on much needed sleep. There was a roaring buzz as many a noble and well-connected commoner were alight with the news that the siege had been broken. You didn’t quite have time to bathe still, but were sure that whatever smell from Clara last night had aired out. You only hoped you didn’t look tired or disheveled as you sat upon the throne. It would not be the proper way for a king to greet the new guests. They had yet to arrive, but messengers were sent out to make sure they knew about your summons. In a perhaps nontraditional manner, it was at their convenience, not yours. So naturally, you had no idea when they might walk through the throne room’s doors.

In the meantime, other petitions were being settled, most having to do with the recent destruction of property and missing peoples that had occurred throughout the course of the siege. Food may be less of an issue than you had thought too, at least for now. You had done well to stockpile a decent amount for the siege and many more tons of it were expected to continue shipping in so that the armies stayed fed. Finding enough housing for the prisoners that had come in was another issue, and some of the money you had given Gregan would have to go into building camps to accommodate the growing need for them, as well for many displaced citizenry. It was probably closer to noon when the announcement that Lady Vessa and Duke Magus were at your doors came. You wanted to show your gratitude to them, but you were finding it hard just to stifle a yawn as your body grew weary. As the courtiers parted to allow passage to the prioritized guests, you caught eye of a third unexpected individual that woke you with a start.

Lady Victoria was with them, despite not being summoned. What was she even doing in Phebis? How did she convince her father to come to a war zone?

The two female guests walked just behind Magus, as was custom for being landless, and once an appropriate distance from the dais Magus stopped to bow and Victoria curtsied. Only Lady Vessa remained with her back erect, her modest breasts embraced by the thin white cloth of her robes. Those that walked in with them found a place among the other courtiers, as Lady Victoria should have done. It seemed Magus had brought with him his Marshal and a redheaded mage wearing garments like Vessa, while Vessa’s escorts were a couple of captains.

“Duke Magus von Doom. Lady Vessa. You know how to keep a King waiting.” It meant to be a complaint, but you couldn’t help smiling from a half suppressed chuckle.

“I thank you for thinking my prowess so great that I can reorganize two armies in such limited time, King Bryce,” Magus said. His voice was deep and cold like an avalanche, much deeper than the last time you had spoken to him. It had been a very long time since, or so it seemed, “But regardless of timing, we have answered your summons. What does the King of Itheria have planned for this campaign?”

“Always straight to business, Duke Magus. Though I must repay your belated arrival in kind. We will speak of that over dinner tonight. It is my hope that you and Lady Vessa would join me and our newly admitted Duke Gregan for a warm meal I’m sure you’ve missed while marching. Of course, I will make sure that the troops you brought are also treated.”

“You are too kind, King Bryce.”

“And it would be an honor, Your Majesty.” Vessa spoke for herself. This time she dropped her head in respect, but just slightly. Her auburn hair swaying subtly with the motion and lavender eyes closed but for a moment. A queen couldn’t match the elegance she gave off.

“Very well,” you stand, “then tonight a small feast is in order. It may not be up to the usual Phebisian standard with the recent siege, but ample nonetheless. I trust you with the arrangements, Duke Gregan.”

“Very well.” Answered Gregan, forgetting or refusing to address you by title.

“Splendid! With that, this court is dismissed. Tomorrow we take this war to the Countess’ gates. Gregan, find our guests suitable quarters as well.”

Upon your dismissal, the courtiers file out of the room and you walk up to Duke Magus now that the formalities have been concluded. “Magus. It’s great to see you again after all this time.”

“Starting wars so soon into your tenure as king does not bode well.” Magus’ deep voice made it hard to tell if he was being snappy with you, but you recall it was always that way, “Couldn’t you use your usual underhandedness to claim Phebis without raising arms?”

You had imagined that Magus would be thrilled to exercise the might of his armies, “Things have not really gone according to plan since I’ve arrived here.”

“More ill omens,” Magus grunted, “You do actually have a plan going forward, I hope.”

“I do, and hope for your input on it later. I’ve called you here for this exact reason. My Marshal is great, but you and yours greater. I suspect the goblins were not a problem?”

“They were a very big problem! Now Elves! Luckily their numbers are unmotivated, ill-trained, and-” Magus took a deep breath, remembering Vessa was in earshot, “We’ll discuss it over dinner. Now if you don’t mind I would very much like to see my room and a warm bath.”

It was just then you had noticed the dry blood on his armor and the stench that came with it. Sweat and blood. It was the fluids men of the Frostpeaks were baptized with at a young age, and despite his time with the Coven, Magus was no exception.

“I too would like to see my room, Your Majesty.” Lady Vessa announced after Magus, “And do allow me to inspect your bedroom to make sure the Phebisians have not forgotten how to accommodate a king.”

“I will allow it, Vessa. Please, wash up until your content and dress well for later.”

“I don’t need to be told that, boy.” She walked off with her escorts and you smiled at her departure. You wondered if Clara would ever find confidence like Vessa, they seemed alike intellectually at least.

Your smile did not last though. You turned around to catch Victoria’s raised arm grasped in Sir Garret’s hand.

“Know who you approach, Lady Victoria.” snarled Garret.

“And know your place, knight!” She snarled back, releasing her arm from his grasp before addressing you, “How dare you greet them and not me!”

“I don’t seem to recall summoning you, Lady Victoria.” Whatever anger that was on her face turned to hurt. You waved Garret off and began your journey to your room, Lady Victoria on your heels. “I suppose you heard news. Did you have business with me?”

“Business?!” She was speaking in a loud whisper, “Do you know what our relationship implies? Do you know what you’ve **** me to carry?”

“****? I seem to remember you were the one crawling into my bed.” It hurt more than you expected to say it. Making sure to keep lead so that she could not see it.

“Craw—you approached me! You put your seed inside me. Do you know what this means for us?”

Akina had already more or less confirmed that Victoria carried what was likely to be your first child. This was about more than the trysts of lust though, you had a kingdom to think about, and Princess Clara was essential to the plans you had to commit to. You closed your eyes briefly. You had thought to say something that would utterly break her heart, but you wondered if you yourself had the heart to say it. You hoped there were no ears close by. What Victoria was spilling could certainly come back to bite you if anyone had heard. You reached the door of your bedchambers, there was guards at front. You missed your chance to say it, for now. You turn to speak with her again.

“Don’t worry, Lady Victoria,” You clasp her hands in yours. Playing the friend for now, “There is a plan. I can’t reveal the nature of it right now to you, but things are going my way for now. Put your trust in me as you always have and things will turn out in an ideal way for you.”

When did you learn to become this good at lying?

“Is this a friend of yours, my king?” Clara had approached the two of you without either of you noticing. Only the guards at your door probably seeing her approach. Both of which were not sure what they were witnessing. You let go of Victoria’s hands and Clara embraced your arm.

“Just a concerned subject of mine, Clara.” You could tell she didn’t believe you. The sharp girl no doubt already surmising the identity of the sexy woman in front of you both. It was a wonder that Victoria didn’t begin tearing up right there. She just curtsied and smiled.

“Indeed, just a concerned subject…” Victoria got an eyeful of Clara, “I’ll take my leave then. If you’ll excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” It was Clara who answered curtly. Victoria left, probably going to discover whatever accommodations were made for her. Perhaps she really did trust you. Foolish.

“I require rest, Clara. Leave me be.”

“Leave you alone? After that display?” She whispered back.

“Yes, alone.” You reiterate.

Now Clara seemed hurt. Two-for-two you joked to yourself. But rather than fight you she just nodded making her way to her own bedroom. You didn’t hesitate to enter your own, and lock the doors shut. Taking off all of your clothes, you stumble over to your soft bed and let gravity put you on it. Taking a deep breath you reconsider your plans for just a moment, to where you could oust Clara and keep Victoria, but that’s all you did. Humoring Lady Victoria with the mere thought will have to be enough for her. You were committed. Laying on your stomach you pull a pillow to your head and before you know it, fade off into sleep.

It was some time later when you woke up. The sun was low, but still shown well enough through the windows of your balcony to light the room. It was a knocking on your door that got you up and a voice shouting through it. “Your Majesty! Lady Vessa seeks your audience.”

You remembered that you had granted her permission to inspect your room. She was ever adamant about making sure you were well accommodated growing up, so long as you did what you were told. Still laying on your bed, you wonder whether to keep to your word, or just fade off back into sleep.