What about the youngest brother?

Tradition does suggest the next in line to the dutchy of Illenda should be considered. In most cases you would bet that with such a long betrothal and such close families it would simply happen by weight of rumor, supposition and gossip. Everyone would expect and so it would be. Yet this time, even before the funeral, Duchess Illenda sent a letter to both you and your mother formally stating she would not seek and would not endorse a betrothal of you to Anton, her own son.

'She hates him almost as much as my own mother does,' that other bit of you thinks.

It's true. And your father also hated him quite a bit for some reason.

For a second you think of Anton, but then you shake your head. Both your mothers would never allow it, so why bother? He's not the only possibility. In fact...

'Yes, why not his younger brother? Why pick Anton when Breggan is even closer to you age?'

There was something to be said for that, even if it was just two years. Lucas was ten years older than you, but somehow it never mattered. But Breggan is just 24. There is only one little issue - he's joined the church. He was the fourth son, so it only made sense. Then his oldest brother died long ago, now Lucas.

'If you dress up in a nun's habit you can get him to break those vows in no time'

Gah! No! Where did you get that from? And besides, you've already established that you don't look good in black. But it's too late. You've got that picture in your head. You met Breggan by chance not long ago as he came to the capital a few months ago as part of his training. Which means that sadly you can picture him even better than you can picture Lucas. You sigh. A quick check between your legs with your finger reveals exactly what you thought you'd find. Your desirous cleft is very wet. You'll never sleep now, not until you do something about it. In the dark you mutter, "Do all women have this problem? Is it just princesses, cooped up in our tower bedrooms?"

'Maybe it's just me,' whispers that voice. 'Maybe all the other princesses are quiet girls and you're the only one who's ****.'

That was possible too. You're sure some young women have the chance to sneak away and have their fun. Otherwise how could there be so many bastards? But not you, no, no. The 'royal sanctum' is supposed to be guarded and uninhabited from now till your wedding night.

'How boring!'

Yes. Worse yet, just a few months ago, when you got all hot and bothered, it was easy to deal with. You just pictured Lucas in your mind's eye and worked away at your thirsting slit until your legs quaked and then you could lie back and rest. But you can't very well... do that when thinking of a dead man. You thump the mattress in frustration. Why couldn't Lucas have just come here six months ago and married you?

You take a moment and try to feel really bad about Lucas for a few minutes, but at the end you're still horny. That other bit in the back of your head just won't leave you be. If you hear Madame Zelande comment that you look tired one more time...

'Just think of Breggan. No one will ever know.'

With some trepidation you lay one finger against your needy loins. You almost picture Sir Arrick again, but quickly divert your mind to Breggan's welcoming smile. He's dressed in the understated clothes of an apprentice clergyman, but he's taken the time out of his busy scheduled to come and check on you. Mmmm, yes, he's got to check you over to make sure the dark forces haven't corrupted you.

Of course you trust Breggan to check you over. Normally a woman would check there... oh, it's alright, he definitely knows what he's doing. The nasty dark forces won't be able to hide for long inside your most precious flower. You picture him resting his head on your breast to check your pulse. Your fingers become his fingers and then your legs go rigid as those questing fingers send you over the edge. Your other hand instinctively clamps over your mouth to make sure you don't wake anyone. 'Oh Gods!' you think to yourself. 'How was it so powerful this time?'

'Well,' says that other part of you, 'it has been a while since you took care of yourself. Maybe Breggan is just the man you need to confess to. He can help you with all your sins.'

Oh my. That seems like a dangerous idea. As you start to drift off you think one last thing: You had best work out which man you're going to end up marrying quickly. Otherwise you'll be dreaming of all the wrong ones.