Prince Bonir Vol 05

Vol. 5: A Duchess for the Duke

My foul mood continued on the voyage home from Jarno (Prince Bonir Vol. 4: The Defense of the Realm). I had delivered on my promise to my cousin King Edelbert (the third) to defend the realm from the Vikings, but at what cost? In the spring, the King of Norway would come to Averic with his three daughters, from which I would choose one to marry to cement the alliance that would cease the Viking invasions of our homeland. At the same time the woman with whom I had shared passion the likes of which I had never known was on her way back home to Sweden, where I would never see her again. Yes, my dedicated concubines Eve and Arianna would surely be at their best welcoming me back home, but I had none of the eager anticipation I usually felt when returning to my castle. After the passions I had experienced with Sigrid, I feared that making love to anyone now would be as bland and tasteless as boiled potatoes.

I would be wrong.

Sure it felt nice to be back home, and after our victory at the fort we received a hero's welcome. Holding court upon my return, Eve and Arianna took up their usual positions, unobtrusive against the lefthand wall, waiting for the time when I retired to my private chamber and they could welcome me back in private. It was mid-afternoon when I reached the castle, so only the very most pressing business was brought forth before I retired to my room. I had snuck a few peeks in their direction during court, trying to build myself up to performing when my heart was not in it. But something was odd about them. I could not put my finger upon it at first, but as I waited for them to come around to the back door of my private chamber, it clicked—it had appeared that their usual roles were reversed. The younger, excitable Arianna was usually the one seemingly struggled to maintain decorum, while Eve was always in complete control. But I realized the one who had seemed to be bouncing up and down at my return was Eve, and Arianna was the one quiet and reserved.

And so it was when I opened the door. It was Eve that rushed in and threw her arms around me, and Arianna that, although she came over and hugged me as well, was more reserved. Both kissed my cheek and told me how happy they were to see me. Then Arianna said, "My Lord, Eve has some news," she said.

I turned to Eve, who seemed about to burst. "I am with child!" she blurted out.

I was dumbfounded. "What?" I had been so rapt in the events at Jarno, I had forgotten my fears before setting sail that I might not return and leave no heir to rule Averic. Eve had volunteered herself and talked me into forgoing the sheath, that if the Lord willed it she might conceive. Apparently she had.

"It's not official yet," she added, "I am not past the first trimester, but there is no mistaking it."

I had fretted about the political implications of leaving a bastard heir, but now that it seemed I was getting one, all I felt was joy. Not knowing what to say, I held her close as she clasped her arms around my neck. Then I couldn't help myself, I had to touch her belly. She didn't show yet of course, but it seemed like you could feel her womb hardening to protect the infant inside. "I was hoping you would be pleased and not cross," she admitted.

Arianna cursied, saying "I shall leave you two alone," and headed toward the door.

"No, wait..." I called after her, "I have news, too."

She turned back while I sat down. It felt as if anchors were dragging down my shoulders. I looked up and saw my two lovely paramours standing anxiously awaiting my news. Maybe I had to get married, and who know what my future wife would be like, but regardless I would still have these lovely ladies to turn to. I was NOT giving them up, King of Norway be damned. And then a smile crept across my face, as a plan began to take shape.

"Well, I have warned you since the first that there would come a day when there would be a duchess in the castle. That day will come sooner rather than later...I am to be married in the spring." A collective gasp came from the two of them. "Just as I always said I would, I am now having to take a wife for political reasons. Nevertheless, I assure you once again that you both shall always be welcome in the castle so long as I reign here. Just as once you had to adjust to sharing me with each other, now there will be a third person as well. The shall be a duchess, but she shall complement you, not supplant you. Understood?"

The both nodded, hearing my words but questioning how long they would hold true, as I would have in their shoes. "In fact, I shall need you to help me choose whom to marry."

"Choose, my Lord?" Eve asked.

"Once the ice has melted sufficiently, the King of Norway shall sail to Averic with this three unwed daughters—I'm afraid I've forgotten their names already. I shall have one week in which to choose which I shall marry. And since one thing she's going to have to understand is that while she may be the Duchess she still must share the house, I am going to require your assistance..."

My news kind of spoiled my initial welcome home, but after we had talked about it and had dinner, my dear ladies were quite ready to lie with me again—at the same time. That certainly was something Sigrid wasn't able to offer. And while making love with Arianna and Eve didn't have the smoldering intensity, ready to burst into an inferno of passion at any moment, it also wasn't flat and hollow as I had thought. I found myself feeling particularly tender and, well, possessive of Eve now that she carried my child. Assuming she continued to full term, we would share a permanent bond that no degree of change to either of our circumstances could dissolve.

It was funny, I also found myself afraid to make love to her for fear of harming the baby. I drilled into Arianna's depths with the intensity to which they were accustomed, but when we switched and I made union with Eve, I was timid, like I was walking on eggshells, and only penetrated about halfway. Eve chastised me playfully for my fear; her dress had been pulled down at the top and up at the bottom, but now she tossed it away entirely. She turned sideways, running her fingers along her still-flat belly, and admonished "see...I do not show at all as yet. There is no reason to treat me like fragile porcelain." She sat back down, leaned back, and lifted her legs high. "Why don't you see for yourself?" A broad smile slowly crept across my face, and I did.

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The winter seemed to pass very quickly. I certainly didn't forget Sigrid, but clearly in my time away from the castle I had forgotten just how attached I was to Eve and Arianna—and just how skilled they actually were at providing pleasure. And yet, it was not as if things just returned to normal at the castle, either. I and many of my household (including my concubines) spent time trying to learn a little Norwegian, for one. The only teacher we had at our disposal, however, was Thera, who had been a captive of the Norwegians for just a month; she had only picked up so much in that short time. As Eve passed into the second trimester, the growing child began to slow her down. While I could make love to her if she lay on her side in my bed, it was very difficult in my private apartments, where the majority of our carnal explorations took place. She could yet use her mouth, but I had to bring myself to where she could reach, rather than the other way around. Arianna picked up the slack; for the first time since she joined my household, one of my paramours was receiving much more of my attention than the other. In a strange sort of way, it balanced out; the extra attention she was receiving helped make up for the fact that Eve was carrying my child.

When the snows melted enough for the meadows to begin to peek through, I had the staff embark on a thorough top to bottom cleansing of the castle. The King might arrive any day—I was sure he would set sail as soon as humanly possible—and I wanted to leave a good impression. It was the third week of March when the sound of horns in the distance announced the arrival of the King of Norway and his escorts. Unfortunately it was also a Wednesday. From my brief dealings with the King, I anticipated that he would want the wedding to take place this Saturday, not next, leaving me not a week but just three days to select my bride.

I immediately dispatched carriages to the port, who brought our distinguished visitors to the castle. I stood in the courtyard to formally receive them when they arrived. The door to the carriage swung open, and a loud, jovial voice called out "O-ho, how goes my newest son?" Then the King himself stepped out of the carriage. Apparently he had made the attempt to learn some of our language over the winter—it kind of impressed me that he thought it was worth the trouble. That was about the extent of King Harald's attempt at speaking my language, though, which was fine.

"Hallo, velkomen," I replied—the Norwegian sounded so much like our own tongue, I wasn't sure they'd even notice the difference, but the even heartier reception suggested they did. He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed so hard they felt like they might snap. He first introduced his wife, Queen Malena, who looked every bit the queen as she gracefully stepped from the carriage. Then together they proudly introduced their three daughters. They also had two sons, but they had been left back home, just so that a disaster at sea wouldn't take the entire royal family and leave Norway in chaos.

"My eldest daughter...Inga." Inga stepped gracefully out of the carriage and into the light. She wore a finely-made, brocaded dress with a swooping neckline hinting at, but actually showing little of, two extremely healthy breasts underneath. She had fine golden hair, swept up in a braid that was then twisted into a stately swirl atop the head. She seemingly glided across the ground, where she curtsied while I kissed her hand. Then she took a step back and waited for her sisters to be announced. It looked like she was about Eve's age, that is to say three or four years older than I.

"My middle daughter...Petra." A second girl stepped out of the carriage; momentarily blinded by the light, she nearly tripped while getting out, much to her embarrassment. She had very light hair, paler than her sister's, which she wore in a single long braid down her back. Her dress was not as intricate as Inga's, but for that reason was also easier to walk in. She almost rushed to curtsey, to get out of the limelight after her near disastrous entrance. I kissed her hand, and she hastily moved to alongside her sister. She was a bit shorter than Inga and was not as well-endowed, but seemed to be about my age.

"And my youngest daughter, Freya." The last girl ducked to get out of the carriage; even before she stood next to them, it was plain that she was the tallest of the three. She was also very young, certainly no older than Arianna had been when first I met her. She was almost as slender as Arianna as well. She had two thin braids of light blonde hair, the same color as Petra's, rising from behind her ears, meeting up in the back and then hanging down, keeping order over the rest of her hair which was otherwise loose and free. She had fine high cheekbones and delicate color to her skin—she was at first glance the most beautiful of the three, although in truth all of them attractive. Upon getting out of the carriage, Freya looked this way and that way at things that she'd never seen—I wondered if she'd never been outside of Scandinavia before. She too curtsied, but was distracted by her curiousity. Her mother growled something I did not understand, but after that Freya paid closer attention to the proceedings.

"Ladies," I said by way of introduction, "welcome to Castle Averic. I am Prince Bonir, Duke of Averic and cousin of his majesty, King Edelbert III. Thank you so much for traveling all this way to visit my humble home—and at week's end, it shall be one of your homes as well. As to whose, well, only time will tell."

"We are honored, your Grace," Inga replied with but the barest trace of accent. "It is a beautiful castle. I look forward to seeing more of it."

"But of course," I said, bowing, "right this way." I took them on a grand tour of the castle. Inga seemed to have something complimentary to say about every room, such that I started to question the sincerity of any of it. Freya resumed her wide-eyed wonderment, bumping into a table at one point as she was walking while looking up at the ceiling. Petra seemed to be paying little attention. At one point when a tapestry piqued her interest, she asked Freya something in Norwegian, who responded in kind. I realized that perhaps Petra was not as accomplished as her sisters in speaking my language. I ended the tour by showing them to the rooms where they were staying, then gave them some time to freshen up before dinner.

The table was set so that King Harald sat at the head of the table, with his wife to his right, then myself, and then Arianna and Eve. That left, across from me, the three daughters, from oldest to youngest, and finally Jauffrey. I told the staff to especially attentive to King Harald's goblet, and be sure it was always full of mead. I usually kept a barrel of mead on hand, and am known to enjoy a draught or two, but I made sure there were three barrels this week—and that didn't include stores reserved for the wedding celebration.

The kitchen staff prepared a wider variety of foods than usual, not sure what our guests would enjoy. Inga took small helpings of a few things, but mostly seemed to be trying to eat very little, or at least not have food in her mouth when an opportunity to speak arose. Petra also took small helping of things, and tried them all, then left some uneaten while taking seconds of those she liked. And Freya eyed everything with suspicion, and chose but one or two things with which she was apparently familiar.

As we ate, the princesses and I tried to learn more about each other, but since there were three of them asking question and but one of me, I seemed to be doing most of the talking. All three of them were keenly interested in my stories of having trained in the King's Elite Guard. I joked about the difficulty of managing nature's business while in full armor. Inga laughed, but seemed to be careful not to laugh too loud or too long. Her attention to protocol reminded me all to much of my own sister, Princess Elizabeth. Freya had not learned this lesson, for she caught a case of the giggles that she could not completely shake for the rest of the night. Petra's laugh had seemed free and natural; all the more so after she confirmed that she understood me correctly by conferring with Freya.

Somehow the conversation ended up on the topic of witchcraft. I explained about Averic's unconventional approach to dealing with witches, and the "Witches' Hotel" where the unfortunate were housed and employed. I did not mention that this was the way both Arianna and Eve had come to my household. For the first time Inga seemed to have little to say, while Freya was full of questions. She asked all about witches, and how one knew a witch, and what they did, and so on—perhaps they did not have such issues in Scandinavia, but I grew weary having to explain every last detail about witches. Petra asked two questions with her thick accent, but I thought they were insightful if not precisely grammatical: "Do you afraid that you make mistake?" and "How do neighbors feel about this 'hotel?'"

After dinner the royals retired to their chambers, while I met up with Arianna and Eve in my private study. "So," I asked, "what are your impressions of the Norwegian Princesses?"

"I don't trust Inga," Eve began, "When you're around, she's all politeness and compliments. But when you were gone, she was ordering me around—do this, get that. I'm seven months pregnant, for heaven's sake, can't she lace up her own boot?"

"She certainly has put forth the most effort to learn the language and the culture," I noted.

"That's because she fully expects to be chosen," Eve replied, "she even said to me 'when I am duchess, this will be different.'"

"Perhaps that is because she speaks the language best, and has done the most research on our culture. What of Petra?"

"She hasn't said very much," Arianna said, "but seems polite enough."

"I don't think she speaks nor understands very much of the language," I commented.

"I think you're right," Eve answered, "she tried to ask me for something, but couldn't think of the word she needed, and finally gave up...but she was nice about it."

"She doesn't seem to have tried very hard to impress a potential husband," I complained.

"Perhaps she believes that Inga will be chosen as much as Inga does," Eve suggested.

"Certainly possible, in which case, why go through all that work for naught, eh?" I thought aloud, "Hmm. And then there's Freya."

"She is beautiful," Arianna answered, "but she also asked a million questions. It reminded me of the first time I took my little brother with me to the market."

"Perhaps she is very interested?" I proposed.

"Perhaps she is immature," Arianna countered, "she seems bossy and doesn't even realize it. She reminds me of a spoiled child."

"So at this point," I summarized, "Inga is trying the hardest, while Freya is the most beautiful. Well, tomorrow we shall see just who is cut out to be the Duchess of Averic, won't we? Are you ready?"

"Absolutely, My Lord," Arianna said enthusiastically.

"Good. Now then...I can't wait that long...how about we go through a practice run?"

"Of course, My Lord," Arianna smiled, beginning to unlace the bodice of her dress.

"Certainly, My Lord," echoed Eve, as she began to caress my rapidly growing protrusion with her tongue.

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In the morning, the King and Queen went out to see the town and the countryside, leaving me some time alone with each of the princesses. I asked them why I should choose them, and why I should not choose her sisters.

"Do not get me wrong, I love my sisters dearly," Inga began, "but neither is cut out for the demands of an important position such as Duchess. Freya is a woman of body but still a child at heart, while Petra—Petra doesn't seem to take anything seriously. When the rest of us were spending time learning your language, she couldn't wait to be done with the lesson and return to playing her lute. I don't know if she would even want to be the Duchess, really."

Petra insisted that she did wish to be Duchess, that it was so much nicer here than she had expected. But she was hesitant to say why I should not choose her sisters. "Freya is still very young, but she is also very beautiful—the most beautiful of the three of us, I think. And Inga, she is the oldest, most educated and she has spent her whole life preparing for a position such as this. I can't say why you should not choose my sisters—you shall have to choose who you think is the best match for you."

Freya admitted that this was all very new to her, and she was overwhelmed by all these new things, but she would do her best to learn and be a good wife. Then given the chance to differentiate herself from her siblings, she did not hold back. "Inga is very bossy, at least to me," she began, "always telling people what they should or should not be doing rather than minding her own business. Bossy and fat—you can't tell now, because she's been starving herself all winter. She's half the size today that I ever remember her being before—I don't think that will last long. Petra's fine—she's not fat nor bossy, but she also isn't outstanding at anything, except perhaps music. She tends to be quiet and sometimes seems to be off in her own little world."