Marcus and his mother cross the border, where he learns a lesson

The Queen was silent as she rode her horse to a brisk trot down the muddy track, her lips pursed into a look of concentration. Settled in the saddle in front of her, his bare legs dangling on either side of the animal below the hem of his short little shift, Marcus knew better than to disturb her, even to voice one of the many questions running through his head. He was still struggling with what she'd told him earlier this morning, that she was taking him to stay with an aunt he'd never even met. Of course they needed a safe place away from Gaius and his soldiers, but this all still seemed so sudden. He just hoped when he was introduced to this relative and her household he managed to make a good impression, or else his mother would be furious with him. And what about his Father anyway? They'd just left the King behind! Was he okay? He had to be, right? Even if Gaius was awful enough to take over the Kingdom like this, surely he wouldn't hurt his own brother?

With the young prince lost in thought, the horse stepped up to the banks of a wide river. The Queen pulled at the reins, guiding the animal to a halt. The sudden stop jolted Marcus, and he glanced up with a gasp as he saw they were waiting right at the very edge of the water. The trail led down here, cutting through the muddy river bank, so this looked like a place where it was able to be forded. Glancing over the flowing water, he could see it was very shallow too, the muddy bed easily visible under the surface.

"Here we are, the border between the Kingdom and the Free Marches." The Queen said, gazing across the water with a thoughtful frown on her gorgeous face. "And the principality of Marwell lies just across this river, my family's home."

"You grew up here, mother?" Marcus asked, staring at the windswept plains stretching out ahead of them, long grass swaying in the breeze. This seemed like a rather wilder land than the kingdom he was used to, and he felt a little shiver run down his spine at the thought.

"No, of course not, Marcus." The Queen laughed. "I grew up in Marwell castle, silly boy." The young prince glanced down, his cheeks flushing. That...was what he'd meant. He'd never heard much about his mother's family or past, the few times he'd hesitantly tried to ask her about either she'd avoided the question, usually by finding something else she decided he should be doing. "Now, be careful as we cross the river." The Queen continued firmly. "I'll hold you as much as I can, but don't wriggle around like you're always doing or you might fall into the water, and that would be rather unpleasant for both of us, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, mother." Marcus nodded. He straightened in the saddle and leaned back into his mother, resting against her so he didn't fall. It left him very aware of the softness of her ample chest pressing into his back through the thin shift however. Holding the reins in her hands, she rested her arms on either side of him. Then, pressing her heels into the horse's flanks, she guided the animal forward into the flowing river. The horse stepped ably through the water, hooves kicking up sparkling little droplets. Marcus flinched in the saddle as a few spattered across his bare legs, before he remembered he was supposed to stay still and hurriedly tried to settle himself against his mother. She sighed harshly in his ear, and he felt his heart sink, knowing he'd managed to look silly and childish in front of her...again. No wonder she was always bossing him around and treating him like he was made of glass. She probably thought he couldn't look after himself without her and with how foolish he behaved he could almost understand why. He bit his lip, staring sadly down at the sparkling water.

"Now, tell me, Marcus, why is it that I'm so sure Gaius won't send an army after us into the Free Marches?" The Queen asked suddenly, her stern voice carrying over the gentle babbling of the river beneath them. The young prince froze...what? Why was she asking him that now? "Come, haven't you learned anything from your lessons? Your uncle knows he can't hold the throne securely as long as you're free. He'll want to capture the both of us, but even if he guesses where I took you he'll never send any men across this river. Why is that? What is it about the Free Marches that will give him pause?"

"Because...um..." Marcus began before he could think, only for his voice to fade into a soft little whimper as he realized he had no idea what he was supposed to say. His mother sighed again in his ear, the sound of her disappointment like a sharp stab in his heart. Why was he so useless? Why couldn't...he impress her even once? He...just wanted her to be proud of him...for something. Then, his sad gaze fell on a little bundle of knotted reeds bobbing on the surface of the water, like those that might have been used to weave a basket. By themselves, each plant was thin and weak, but wound together, oh that was it! He suddenly remembered the words of his father's chamberlain, given during one of those statecraft lessons he'd always found so boring. The elderly man had sarcastically described the Free Marches as like a nest of wasps, and told the young prince exactly why, how any attempt to conquer these lands had brought down a vicious swarm upon the invader. "Because...if he attacks one of them in any way, the other Marcher lords will unite and drive his army off." Marcus stammered out hurriedly, hoping that was enough.

"That's right, Marcus." The Queen replied evenly. The young prince gasped with relief, his chest going warm at this rare approval from her. He'd managed not to mess up for once! "I'm glad to see you've been paying at least some attention to your tutors. I'll be continuing your lessons myself...until we can return to the Kingdom, and I mean to make sure you learn everything a young prince should know." Marcus bit his lip nervously, his mother was going to be tutoring him herself? And worse still, that firm, insistent tone of hers made him suddenly think of her threat to spank him earlier. She...wouldn't do that if he messed up during his lessons, would she? "As for the Marcher lords..." The Queen continued in that same, lecturing tone that made him instantly pay attention. "They may feud with each other incessantly over cattle and old injuries, but even the least of them would join forces to drive off any outsider who dared try to conquer even one of their bitterest rivals. That's why they've managed to stay independent so long, despite lacking the civilized laws and customs that knit a true Kingdom together." She paused, breathing out deeply. "They truly are a stubborn and barbaric people, those who call the Free Marches home."

"And...aunt Theodora?" Marcus asked, not wanting to miss this chance to find out more about the woman they'd apparently be staying with. "Is she like that?"

"My sister is...difficult, yes." His mother replied stiffly. She was silent for a moment as she guided the horse by the reins up out of the water onto the other bank. "When I knew her, she was a woman lacking entirely in proper restraint, focused largely on indulging her many, lascivious appetites. I dare say when we were young there was not a man or woman in the castle that she hadn't tried to take to her bed." She scoffed loudly, as Marcus felt his cheeks burn hot. His aunt was really like that? "More frustrating still, she refused to see beyond her castle and the tiny realm she rules, concerned with petty squabbles with her neighbors rather than any great matters of state. It has been some years since last I saw her, so I can only hope she has settled down and matured somewhat. Though I've heard no word of her taking a husband or starting a family. Surely she would have sent word to me then, at least? It matters not, she will have to give us shelter once I explain our situation. We're still family, after all." The Queen fell silent once again, tugging on the reins to lead the horse onto another path that ran along the river on this side.

Marcus kept quiet as well, not wanting to disturb his mother or upset her again when she seemed to be deep in thought. His wide gaze moved over the wild, windswept plains stretching out around them now, and suddenly struck him that they'd just left the Kingdom. This was by far the furthest from his home he'd ever been, and now they were beyond the borders of the land his father...had ruled. He shifted nervously against his mother, wondering what awaited them in the wild, untamed lands of the Free Marches. As the Queen had hinted at, even the peasants here had a reputation for being as uncivilized and unruly, refusing to submit to any authority higher than their own small lords. No wonder they had no king to rule over them properly.

He'd never thought about it before, but it was really strange how a woman as refined and elegant as his mother had come from such a place. Her grasp of courtly etiquette, fashion and manners had always seemed utterly perfect to him, effortlessly outshining any of her ladies or the wives of his father's subjects when they gathered together at feasts or banquets. That didn't seem like something she could have learned out here in this wild land. Why would a lady of the Free Marches care about what piece of jewellery suited which dress? Or whether the wife on an earl outranked a duchess? She'd be more likely to be running into battle screaming and waving an axe to drive off cattle raiders, from what he'd heard. The thought of his mother doing the same in one of her fancy dresses made him smile to himself, before he realized that would probably be kind of scary.

"This way now, I believe." The Queen murmured in his ear. He gasped in shock at how close she was suddenly, leaning right over him, her breaths warm and tingling on his skin. Her large boobs rested on his back, soft and yielding against him like a pair of lovely, warm pillows. The thought made him blush even hotter. "Another few hours of riding and we'll have arrived at Marwell Castle." The young prince nodded quickly, trying to distract himself from a sudden, naughty fantasy of lying in bed with his mother and resting his head in her bare chest. He couldn't help but imagine his face nestled between those two ample mounds as he kissed at her soft, smooth skin while she patted his head and told him he was a good boy. He squirmed a little in the saddle, feeling that insistent tingling between his legs as his dick stiffened up under the shift, his sensitive head brushing over the silky fabric each time the horse's back rose and fell underneath him. This again...why did it keep happening? She was his mother! Oh, how he wished he'd managed to grab some proper clothes so his aching erection wasn't so blindingly obvious under the filmy shift. What if he was still hard when they met aunt Therodora? He moved a hand over his stiff little dick, awkwardly covering it and hoping desperately his mother hadn't seen anything. "You'll be safe there, Marcus." The Queen continued suddenly, her voice firm and certain, with an edge of steel that made his skin tingle. "I'll make sure of that, no matter what."

"Yes, mother." Marcus nodded again. Somehow, when she spoke to him like that, he just had to believe her, no matter how scary the thought of his uncle coming after them could be. Resting against her chest, one hand still covering his tingling dick, the young prince settled into the saddle and tried to relax. How long would they have to live here, he wondered? Surely the other lords of the Kingdom would soon gather their forces, overthrow his uncle and put his father back on the throne, protecting their rightful ruler as they'd sworn to do? He just had to be brave until then, and do as his mother said. At least she was here to look after him like she'd promised. Maybe...this wouldn't be so bad after all.