King Bernard, Queen Samantha, and Princess Natalie were all sitting on stage right on thick wooden thrones that had been carried out by the pencil mustached guard. Natalie took a look around the stage. There were three more seats assembled on the opposite side of the stage. The mustached guard stood by the King’s side while a pretty young woman in a simple gray and white gown stood by Samantha’s. She must have been a handmaiden, Natalie realized as studied the stage. Up stage center there was a pair of heavy wooden doors that looked rather ominous. The lights on her made Natalie a little more comfortable, blinding her somewhat to the audience that was so eagerly staring at her.
“The Emissary of the Eastern Country enters!” the guard declared, standing straight as more people entered from stage left.
First was a tall, almost effeminate young man in long golden robes. His long black hair was tied back into a topknot with a gold headpiece that sparkled like fire in the light. He bowed slightly to the King and Queen before he sat down. Next entered Sakura, dressed in a flowing blood red dress with golden designs woven into it. She was pure elegance as she walked across the stage and took her seat next to the younger man.
“Apologizes for our late arrival, good king, we were delayed by those barbaric Amestrys forces,” Sakura said, using a strange accent that mixed an English and Asian accent seamlessly.
“And where is your king?” Bernard demanded. “I was to speak to him, was I not?”
“Apologizes,” Sakura smiled coldly. “But this war has already claimed enough of my sons. Instead of powerful Hu-Wong, I have brought you cunning Wu-Wei.”
“This was not part of our deal!” Bernard answered, standing. Samantha placed a hand on his arm to clam him, gently placing him back in his throne.
“Wu-Wei may not be a ferocious tiger, King Bernard, but neither is he a cowardly turtle,” Sakura assured him. “He is well read, well learned, trustworthy, and able. What of your daughter?”
Natalie swallowed as she stood and slowly walked toward Sakura.
“Beautiful, intelligent, and graceful,” Samantha stated. “Nothing more could be asked of a woman.”
“We are in a war,” Sakura stood, sweeping back her dress. “More could be asked of any woman,” she continued, walking toward Natalie like a wolf stalking an injured deer. “You could be asked to bear us sons.” The Asian woman’s hand shot forward, drawing a gasp from Natalie and from the audience as her hand sunk into the front of Natalie’s skirt. “Well,” she murmured, wriggling her fingers toward Natalie’s core, “young one…what’s your name?”
“N-Natalie,” she whimpered, trying to squirm as Sakura rubbed her through her dress. “Princess Natalie.”
Sakura smiled as she leaned in close, letting her breath brush against the younger woman’s cheeks.
“Princess Natalie,” Sakura’s free hand cupped Natalie’s breast, palm pressing into a hardening nipple. “Can you bear me any sons?”
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