A Royal Affair

A Royal Affair Ch. 01

The sounds of aristocratic chatters filled the large, great hall. Queen Lyanna disinterestedly perched on the center seat of the high table with her legs crossed, slowly sipping on her chalice of wine.

Peering through the crowds of well-dressed nobility, she spotted her hulking man of a husband, husband Roderick, boisterously thundering with his posse of friends and fellow knights alike with a wooden goblet, spilling his meed about as he chanted songs about great heroes of times past.

"In lands where shadows lie, we rise up with spirits high! Through the mist and mountain pass, we march forth a fearless mass! Dragons fierce with fiery breath, we'll face them, defy death!"

Lyanna rolled her alluring, violet eyes as she slouched onto her chair. The monarch twirled her long braided, silver-blonde hair with her fingers as she let out a long, resigned sigh. She wasn't very fond of such festivities because while her husband went about frolicking, and enjoying the evening, the responsibility of meeting with nobles for political and trade discussions fell on her shoulders.

Sitting away from the main floor, Lyanna made every effort not to appear uninterested in formal talks, however, her efforts would become undone when her servant appeared by her side to inform her of something.

"Your Majesty," the servant began, bowing their head.

Letting out an annoyed exhale seeing that it was time to make due on her duties, Lyanna sat up and replied, "Yes?"

"There is someone who would like to grant an audience to you." Lyanna's violet eyes went weary as she attempted to slither her way out of this potential meeting.

"Is there any chance that I may adjourn this dialogue for another time? I'm terribly not in the mood to discuss any more nobles for tonight," Lyanna told her servant, her tone audibly strained.

"I understand, Your Majesty. However, may I stress the importance of this particular person?"

"Hmm, fine. Who is it?" Lyanna murmured, sipping her chalice.

"The Duke of Sylvanport, Oberon Winthrop," the servant revealed.

Lyanna's eyes widened as she was filled with displeasure, feeling the extremity of this calling. Duke Oberon was a noble of one of the most wealthy kingdoms of the realm due to it being a mercantile hub for many neighboring nations. Given Sylvanport's vast wealth, that also meant the Duke carried himself a certain way that Lyanna found distasteful...

However, the queen understood the importance of his calling since a trade agreement with him would prove to be very beneficial to her kingdom since there had been a minor shortage of food due to a recent string of raids from barbarian tribes from the east and a war her husband has waged in her name to the south. Lyanna figured that some additional importation of goods would help keep her subjects content.

Downing the rest of her wine, Lyanna took a deep breath and got up from her chair. "Very well, I will meet this Duke," the elegant silver-haired monarch sighed, gesturing for her servant to lead the way.

"Of course, Your Majesty. This way..."

Moving through the crowds of people Lyanna was eventually led to the man who had coveted for her presence. "Lord Oberon," Lyanna's servant announced, gaining his attention. "May I present, Your Majesty, Lyanna Talus Queen of Verdantia."

The silver-haired queen's violet eyes quickly scrutinized the man before her. Oberon, an older man in his mid-fifties or early sixties possessed a head of balding, black hair with a thick aristocratic mustache. He stood a bit shorter than Lyanna, his eye line around her chin. His form matched what she had imagined: on the heavier side, his gluttony was apparent in his plump cheeks, double chin, and protruding belly, emphasizing his fancy doublet.

"Your Majesty..." the Duke bowed, carefully taking the queen's right hand and kissing it. "You are as beautiful as they say!"

The Duke raised his head and hastily took in Lyanna's radiant figure before she noticed his lingering stare. The older man licked his lips observing her tall, modest stature, full, shapely bust, and distinguishable silver hair. Her serene white skin accentuated her hypnotizing violet eyes and subtly pointed ears hinted at her dragonlord heritage. The queen wore a graceful white dress with open legs that revealed her exposed shoulders and flashed a tasteful amount of cleavage. The dress flowed elegantly, spilling at the sides to allow for ease of movement and a glimpse of her long, graceful legs. Her ensemble was completed with a subtle silver crown headband, open-toed heels with laces that wrapped up to her upper calves, and other stylish accessories. Some in other places of the realm may say that her chosen attire was unmodest, however, given the warmer climate where her kingdom is situated, it was normal to wear more revealing clothes. Oberon relished the Verdantian trends. The women of these lands were all eye candy, and the queen was no exception, she was a goddess in the flesh.

Lyanna offered a measured smile, her violet eyes sharpening as she assessed the Duke. "I thank you for your compliment, Duke Oberon," she responded, her voice steady and composed. "Let us hope that your praise extends to the prosperity of our realms as does to courtly pleasantries." Her words were measured, ensuring the conversation's focus shifted toward state matters.

The Duke straightened up as he registered the queen's subtle reprimand. "My apologies, Your Majesty. Surely you can understand my awe at your radiance. I simply can't help myself, heh!" Oberon replied, letting go of Lyanna's hand.

The sliver-haired queen cautiously squinted at the Duke's flattery. It would appear that the rumors about his thirst for women were true. "No need to worry, my lord. Let's just get to the matter at hand," Lyanna refocused the conversation. "It has come to my attention that you wanted to discuss trade between our kingdoms?"

Oberon took a swig from his wine glass and curiously arched his brow. "Ah, mhm, I seek to open some dialogue for commerce between our two great nations," the Duke responded with a pleasant smile. "However, the evening is still young and I just got here! Why don't we spend this time getting better acquainted with one another before we begin serious talk, yes?"

Lyanna's mouth slightly parted in disbelief. Did he really just summon her to try to socialize with her? "Respectfully, my lord, but I much rather we get on with our negotiations. Perhaps you can enjoy the rest of the evening without stress then?"

Oberon let out a disinterested chuckle. "Hmm, I'm afraid not, Your Majesty. For you see, I've been traveling without rest for a fortnight. I want to enjoy myself for a bit. And I must say you much rather want me in a good mood when discussing things formally!" the Duke teasingly insisted.

The queen let out a resigned exhale through her nostrils. Oberon was also known to be cut-throat regarding trade agreements and she needed things to fall through for the sake of her kingdom. "Very well, my lord. Please call for me when you are ready to speak then," Lyanna said, attempting to part ways with the Duke, however, before she could, she felt a firm hand grasp her arm.

Her head snapped back to find Oberon restricting her movement. Her violet eyes flared out in utter bewilderment.

"How dare he!"

the queen hissed to herself while keeping a calm and unbothered demeanor.

"Like I said," the older man began. "I think it's best if we become acquainted with each other. I'm sure it would prove beneficial for our...negotiations... later," he continued, his tone laced with suggestiveness. A shiver went down Lyanna's spine feeling his grimy hand upon her.

Contemplating her options, the queen was left with almost nothing. It was either play along with this man's antics or risk leaving a bad impression on him and squandering a key opportunity. Swallowing her pride, Lyanna agreed, masking her reluctance with a kind smile.

"Very well, my lord. If my company will aid in bettering your mood, then so be it," Lyanna agreed with a subtle nod. "You be so kind as to retrieve us some more wine?" the queen said to her servant.

Lyanna proceeded to socialize with the Oberon for the rest of the evening. Their conversations were kept cordial and pleasant, for the most part... But it somehow always became a point where the Duke would circle back and flatter her with subtle flirtatious remarks about her body. Of course, she would manage to steer him back in the right direction but despite that, the old man kept at his lecherous ways.

It was becoming painfully apparent what the Duke wanted as the evening went on. Lyanna would catch his eyes constantly lingering on her chest and legs. She was disgusted with the man and the rumors about Oberon's salacious behavior were becoming clearer.

He even began to touch her inappropriately, though subtly enough to avoid drawing attention around them. Oberon would casually drape his arm around her shoulder, as if in a gesture of camaraderie or let his hand linger on her lower hip, his touch lasting just a moment too long. Each contact appeared calculated and intended to be intimate without being overt, making it difficult for Lyanna to object without causing a scene.

But the queen held her tongue no matter how comfortable the Duke got. She kept repeating to herself that this was for the sake of her kingdom. She needed Oberon to be in a pleasant mood so that she could get the most out of their soon-to-be trade negotiations.

As unpleasant as the Duke may have initially appeared, he was surpassingly charming in a strange sort of way. Lyanna became amused with his constant jesting and attempts to impress her. To a certain extent, his efforts were working, but perhaps it was the several refills of wine she had been consuming to help pass the time.

Lyanna eventually found herself in a more secluded area of the great hall, the air was thick with the scent of wine and the murmur of distant conversations. As she sat on a bench crossing her long legs, Oberon positioned himself closely next to her, his presence looming like a shadow.

"May I say that your home is a sight for sore eyes? Easily one of the most luxurious from what I've seen during my travels," the Duke remarked, his right hand drifting dangerously close to Lyanna's left knee. "Heh, the home reflects the owner!" he added, his tone laced with flirtation.

The silver-haired queen's eyes darted at him as she maintained a friendly demeanor. She had since given up trying to fend off the advances of the handsy noble, her protest falling on deaf ears. The alcohol coursing through her veins dulled her senses, clouding her judgment and weakening her resolve.

"You flatter me too much, my lord. It is mostly thanks to my predecessors for its upkeep and stature. I merely inherited it," Lyanna replied, her voice tinged with forced politeness. But her words only seemed to embolden Oberon, his hand inching further up her leg, sending shivers down her spine.

"The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty," Oberon grinned, his eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as he took a long sip from his wine glass. "Your family is one of the most esteemed houses of the realm! I would expect nothing less. And considering what you've done with the place, the Talus name holds true!"

Lyanna forced a tight-lipped smile, her discomfort growing with each passing moment. "Such kind words, my lord," she replied, her voice strained as she calmly shifted away from his touch.

But the Duke remained undeterred, his gaze lingering on her with unsettling intensity. "You are too modest, Your Majesty," he murmured, his hand now boldly tracing the contours of her thigh. "I've long admired your family's legacy and your own contributions to it. You are quite a remarkable young woman! How old are you again?" The queen felt her chest swelling with an unfamiliar warmth she hadn't felt for such a long time. Oberon's suggestive remarks were out of line given she was a married woman, however, she was oddly enjoying his words for her husband, Roderick, barely spoke to her in such ways.

"I'm nearing my twenty-fifth Moon," Lyanna answered. Oberon smiled with pure awe.

"My, my! Your wisdom exceeds your age!" the Duke remarked with a roar. "You have everything a man wants in a woman! It's a shame someone has beaten me to it! I would have loved to be betrothed to you."

Lyanna's heart raced, her breath catching her throat as she struggled to maintain her composure at his blunt declaration. "Your flattery knows no bounds, my lord," she managed, her tone icy despite the warmth of her words. However, she couldn't help but show a flattered smile. "But I must remind you of the boundaries of propriety."

Oberon chuckled, his grip on her soft thigh tightening ever so slightly. "Ah, but where's the harm in a little harmless flirtation between friends?" he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and permeated with the aroma of wine.

"We're friends now? We only just met," Lyanna retorted with an amused expression.

The Duke nodded affirmingly, his hand delving under her skirt and into her inner thigh. "Yes, are we not? I believe the connection between us is undeniable, no? It's been a delight spending the evening with you. I hope you can say the same for me?"

The queen's chest swelled. A part of her screamed for her to end his nefarious advances, but another kept her complacent, rousing Oberon to continue. Her violet eyes hastily scanned the great hall to see if anyone was watching them. Thankfully they were obscured by several tables and chairs in front of them. It also helped that most of the nobles were heavy on the buzz of alcohol to notice their seemingly scandalous parley.

Lyanna's attention was quickly drawn back to Oberon feeling his hand delve dangerously close to her heat. "Uh, well... I would like to say it has," she involuntarily stammered, trying to adjust herself away from the Duke but her position was already too compromised to distance herself. "But I may say that perhaps you're getting a little too... enthusiastic, yes?" she meekly warned, her heart jumped with the thrill of this man's pursuit for her favor.

Oberon's grin widened, his touch lingering further despite Lyanna's feeble attempts to make distance. "Hmm, enthusiastic, you say?" he murmured, his voice low and suggestive. "I prefer to think of it as appreciative of true beauty."

His words caused Lyanna's body to burn with strange, allured feelings. "Lord Oberon," she managed to stiffen her tone. "This is hardly appropriate behavior. I must insist you refrain from such liberties this instant before someone sees. Aren't you a bit concerned that my husband might discover what you're doing with his wife??"

The lecherous Duke glanced toward the main space before returning his undying attention to the queen. "I believe he's too busy rousing the festivities to care," Oberon declared confidently. "May I ask you something, Your Majesty?" he continued, inching his hand deeper between Lyanna's long legs.

The queen angled her eyes down to the junction of his naughty touching before returning her attention to him. "Wha- what is it you are asking?" she winced at the Duke's touch.

"Does your husband tend to your needs?" Lyanna bemusely fluttered her eyelids at Oberon's bold question.

"I'm not entirely sure what you mean, my lord," the queen put on a coy tone. The Duke chuckled and inched his face closer to hers.

"Don't act so naive. I think you know exactly what I'm alluding to..." he whispered, sliding his fingers along her moistening undergarments.

Lyanna's words were caught in her throat as the pleasurable sensations below became too much to disregard. "Hmm, isn't it improper for a man to involve himself in a married woman's private affairs?" she replied, her voice tense and breathy.

"Perhaps," Oberon responded, his eyes locking onto her violet orbs with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. He leaned even closer, his breath warm against her ear. "But sometimes, propriety is a small price to pay for desire..."

The queen shivered, apprehension and longing coursing through her. "Desire?" she whispered, her resolve wavering as his exploring fingers grazed her heat over her underwear.

"Yes, Lyanna," the Duke murmured, ceasing his formalities, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck. "Desire that has been simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to ignite..."

Lyanna's breath hitched as his touch sent waves of heat through her body. "Oberon, we shouldn't..." she uttered, subconsciously moving her head over for easier access for the Duke.

"Tell me to stop, and I will..." he softly said, his lips journeying down to her exposed shoulder. "But I'm willing to bet that you want me to continue..." Oberon claimed.

"I..." Lyanna was at a loss for words.

"You didn't answer my question, Lyanna..." the Duke reiterated, peppering soft kisses on her shoulder and kneading her now sopping crotch.

The queen snuck a glance at her husband, who was still entertaining himself and those around him. Roderick was a fine consort to Lyanna: brave, a skilled warrior, and considered handsome to many. However, with his outward perfection, he embodied the proto-typical self-absorbed noble of the court. She was certain he cared more about his sword than his wife.

Their marriage was a political arrangement, orchestrated during their adolescence by their parents. As a consequence, their relationship was driven more by duty rather than love. Lyanna was acutely aware that Roderick found her boring and overly austere. This likely explained why he preferred the company of tavern ladies and other women of the court over hers. She partly blamed herself; she had to grow up quickly when her parents passed away, forcing her to ascend the throne at a young age. Lyanna was never afforded the time and luxury to explore lighter, more carefree aspects of life.

The silver-haired queen's deep thought was snapped by Oberon's tongue gliding against the delicate skin of her neck. "Huh? Ah... no... he doesn't..." she revealed without thinking, her voice faint. The Duke smiled deviously as he sensually expressed his desires for the monarch.

"I can tend to your needs, Your Majesty..." Oberon said, hungrily taking in her sweet aroma. "Let me do you a service... You deserve it... But again, if you don't want this you can say no right now and I'll stop..." Although he offered an avenue of escape the queen, found herself struggling to take it.

Lyanna's soft lips parted as she began to quietly mewl from Oberon's touching and kissing. It had been so long since she had experienced the touch, arousal, and thrill of sexual gratification. The queen offered no further objections to the lecherous Duke, solidifying her decision.

"Hmm, good... Why don't we go somewhere with a more... intimate setting? I think it's a great time to begin our... state affairs..." the older man said, releasing his lips from her neck, his voice was tinged with nefarious implications. A gasp escaped the silver-haired queen's lush lips feeling his pudgy fingers heavily prod at her sex causing her to lock eyes with Oberon. She discerned a smug, knowing grin on his plump face, what he was implying was laced with sexual deviancy.

Lyanna's heart sank at the suggestion, her inhibitions screaming at her to refuse. But strangely, it was as if she had no control over herself. She knew exactly what the Duke wanted from her, and she knew what she exactly wanted from him. It was vile, depraved, and scandalous! However, the queen offered no resistance to the man's advances. It could have been the alcohol in her system impairing her inhibitions or long pent-up sexual desires finally breaking free from their long slumber, likely both.