The arrangements were quickly done, though you had to brow-beat Captain Gregoric, commander of the Royal Guard, to grudgingly go along with your "Kingdom Tour"-plan. You appointed Queen-Mother Evelyn to act as a steward, assisted by the good Captain, while you would be gone.
After counseling with your advisors, you settled on the route: first, by horse up north, to the mountains, to inspect the lumber and mining sites. Coincidentally, Duke Elkaltan, steward of the North, had a son, who would come of age soon - a prime candidate for you to marry off Laura to and to cement relations to that corner of the realm. Two weeks would see you at the Duke's castle.
From there, a steady month of riding would take you to the eastern coast and the shipyards and fisheries, not to mention the all-important trade port of Brennen. Duke Lantarn was the steward of the West and his castle oversaw the port itself.
The swamps and marshes south of Berros were of no interest, so you would trade your horses for a ship, and sail south for a week, hopefully avoiding the Pirates of the Broken Islands, as the Cold Sea became the Warm Sea, and reaching Duke Mastas realm. The steward of the South oversaw the most miserable part of the realm - the parched wastelands, occasionally giving room for actual deserts. But the gold mines were found down there, and the tar pits so necessary for the ships of the Kingdom, and jewelcrafting and glass-blowing and pottery. Duke Mastas had a daughter, and you wondered whether Mastas would take it as an insult if you took her as your concubine. The southerners had many strange habits, so he might not.
From there, your party would switch back to horseback, and ride north-west for three weeks, to reach the western border and Wiltwoode. Duke Alfred, steward of the West, oversaw the breadbasket of the kingdom, and the jungles - while extremely hostile - provided the realm with exotic pelts and pets, and the only silver mine for hundreds of leagues, was right under Duke Alfred's castle. But as you already knew, he was an ambitious man, too ambitious. You weren't sure yet how you would deal with him, but accidents could always happen. He might fall overboard in a storm, or lose his footing and fall down a mining shaft. In any case, he would not be alive to return to his castle, and you would have to become the warden for his infant son and young widow.
For her part, Claire was excited as a little child. It was not often that royal princesses got to travel, and she was looking forward to all the exotic sights she would experience. At night, as you took her like an animal, she would babble about foreign fashions or jewellery. You started to favour blowjobs, if only to keep her quiet. She didn't seem to mind. Your cock in her throat, your balls against her chin, Claire seemed to truly find her calling in life. While the two of you kept your arrangement hidden from your family, and from the other nobles in the castle, the servants very quickly learned who the next Queen would be.
Not even Duke Alfred presented any difficulties. The man seemed to be delighted to have this extended opportunity to worm his way into your good graces - the better to plunge a dagger between your ribs, most likely!
When the day of departure arrived, the servants carried six large chests to the wagon Claire would ride in, along with her two handmaidens - Priscie was the third-daughter of a local knight and thus responsible for the valuable dresses, while Masie was an orphan with deft fingers, responsible for hair and menial tasks. Claire had insisted that she could not travel without them, and I you had eventually agreed. Two more chests held your clothes - a King must look the part, your mother had told you. Repeatedly.
Ser Bransky led the Guard accompanying you, consisting of five knights and five men-at-arms. Duke Alfred had a manservant, a luxury you had decided to forego. You saw that he was armed - Alfred might have brought an assassin instead of an innocent servant.
The three women would ride in the wagon, while all thirteen men rode horses.
Three hours of steady moving and the capital has disappeared behind your back. The day goes uneventfully, weather holding, gently rolling fields being worked upon by peasants.
At dusk, you come upon a stream and must make a decision. Ser Bransky suggests that you stop and make camp right there, before it gets too dark. Duke Alfred points out that you will have many more nights to "rough it out", and that there is an excellent inn just a few miles ahead. |