Wait, Who Are THESE Jerks?

You grit your teeth as Roan nibbles lightly at the side of your neck, her hand massaging as much of your dick as she can wrap her clever fingers around. Oh God, should you be thinking about baseball? That's something people do right?! If you don't make any other progress on what you should be doing here, then the LEAST you can do is avoid cumming all over yourself. You're already three quarters of the way to giving up on even that when a blast of cold heralds the tavern's door opening, and what can only be actual heralds clomp in to try to deliver their introductions.

You say try, because apparently the heralds couldn't decide who should get to go first and instead all began issuing their proclamations at the same time. As what started as a jumble of "Hear Ye"s devolves into a muddled chorus of offended fancy-man arguing, Roan perks up and pops her head over the back of the chair to spectate, mercifully leaving your indignant bulge alone.

THHROOOBBBB...

You give your junk a warning glare as Roan grins, eyes sparkling as the heralds hesitantly try slapping at each another. "Oh, the other princes are here! I should do your introduction; let me introduce you! Ooo, I already KNOW which guy I'm going to hit.."

You make a noise of disappoval, hooking an arm under the overeager valet's bottom. You rise up from the chair and effortlessly bring Roan up with you, the girl seated on your cradled arms as you look reproachfully into her eyes. "Maybe let's not get into any fights, uh, Roan."

The girl blows a raspberry at you, then playfully gives the tip of your nose a tiny lick and slips out of your arms. You can't help but notice she's surprisingly graceful for such an overly pregnant girl, Roan snatching up a feathered cap from the table by your chair. She smartly slips it on, gives you and wink, and then struts off with a suddenly-adopted dignity that is much more in line with what you'd consider "valet"-y. Not that you're an expert or anything, but before a few minutes ago you'd have assumed the job involved much less dick-rubbing. And, uh. Impregnation.

Before the increasingly vicious herald fight can get out of hand, a small group of irritated young men in very fine clothes break it up. These are definitely more princes; are you here because you're supposed to meet with these guys? I mean, you're a prince. They are princes. It makes sense. And wasn't there something about a princess? Figuring this might be a chance for some actual guidance, you pick up your mug and stride over to the table the newcomers have claimed for themselves.

You eye the other princes as you approach, not sure of the situation. Are they like you? Were they also transported here out of, you don't know, some sort of deep-seeded malice against people looking for summer work? They are mostly interchangeable, give or take an elaborately curled mustache or annoyingly warbling laugh. They go quiet as you are still deciding how you want to play it, the whole table eyeing you with anything from suspicion to bemusement to irritation. Roan, who had been gliding beside you, decides to fill the silence by starting your introduction. She takes in a deep breath, eyes happily closed as she raises one finger to begin when one of the princes, a sour-looking fellow with closely cropped white-blonde hair and a pointed beard, cuts her off.

"Yes yes, we know who he is..." The prince gives Roan a long look of what is probably disapproval, "...valet." He turns his critical eye towards you for a moment, quickly rolling them away and returning to his goblet. Man, why didn't you get a goblet? He drawls, "So. Do they not have shirts in your castle?"

The other princes chuckle among themselves as you eye yourself. Oh right, you sure are shirtless. The chuckles die out a bit as your continuing confusion at basically everything is apparently taken as you not rising to Prince Beardy's jab. Roan certainly is though, the girl's creamy cheeks flushing deep red as she clenches her fists and tries to kill the prince with eye-daggers. Beardy lightly runs his finger around the lip of his goblet, not even bothering to look at you now. "Well as you can see, all the seats here are taken. You'd probably be more comfortable out in the barn anyway...?"

The chuckles are a bit more halfhearted now as you straighten, coolly running your eyes across the table. Okay, seriously? What, this is the cool Prince's Table? Fuck this noise. As you turn and walk away, you notice the beginnings of a triumphant smile curling on Beardy's stupid face, the chattering slowly beginning to build up again. When you take your massive chair by the fire in both hands, however, and lift it clear over your head with nothing more than a quick grunt of exertion, the Cool Princes' chatter cuts out again.

You slowly but steadily walk the chair over to their table, every muscle on your massive frame bulging and rippling from the tremendous effort you are making seem nearly effortless. They stare at you, eyes wide and mouths gaping when you reach the table, taking a moment to regard all of them. You're like fucking Atlas, the world perched on your shoulders as tiny men scurry around your feet. That's how you feel anyway, before you plant the chair down at the end of their table with a booming thud that sends them all jumping from their seat. Then, with no more lasting mark from your feat then a light sheen of sweat over your muscled body, you sit down and pick up your mug.

"Don't mind me. Continue."

Roan moves to stand by your side as the princes hesitantly try to pick their conversation back up, the girl still flushed but now for a totally different reason. She keeps shooting you glances, her eyes heavily lidded as she makes a purr of approval only you can hear. You grin into your terrible beer, ears perking up as one of the princes says something you actually care about. A prince who keeps trying and failing to hold a monocle in one eye turns to Beardy and asks "So, wasn't your uncle or something the princess's father?"

Prince Beardy shrugs, giving a casual nod. "Cousin once removed I think. But it's true, yeah."

Monocle Failure looks at Beardy expectantly, then waves him on. ""Well? Tell us about her! What is she like?"