Alright, this is a sci-fi/fantasy story, with elements of incest. This story will feature our protagonist in several relationships, so there are your warnings, dear readers.
I would love to give a shout out to timber078 for being an awesome editor and helping me mold this from an incoherent rambling into a chapter truly worthy of being posted.
*****
Rhod was anxious. He was the youngest child of his father, and it was his eighteenth birthday today. He knew that meant two things. One, his father was going to introduce him to his wife, and two, he would be granted land and a title today.
Rhod had always known that he was nowhere near as handsome as a movie star, or his brother Abraham, but he definitely wasn't ugly. Not like his kinsman, Duke Murphy the Ugly of Leinster. A glance in his mirror reassured him that he did have a few things going for him.
His hazel eyes belied his intelligence, and his Trace, the pink vein that ran from his forehead to his ankle, had been polished with mineral oil, making the bright pink contrast against his pale, white skin. A well-trimmed, if slightly scraggly, goatee obscured the Trace as it ran down his chin and center of his throat; it was just another reminder of who he was. A royal, a prince, a soon-to-be Duke and husband. Rhod gulped audibly as he came to terms with what this meant. An end to his childhood, an end to the protection he enjoyed while growing up. He would soon be out amongst the wolves and a single misstep could mean his death.
He had been nervous a few days prior, when his father had summoned him. He had entered the throne room and saw his father adorned in his regalia. Rhod understood in an instant that it wasn't his father who had summoned him, it was the Emperor.
"Approach, my son." His father had commanded, and he had hastened to do his father's will. It was one thing to disappoint him as his
Dad
, but an entirely different matter to disobey him as the
Emperor
. His brother, Duke Thomas of Deira had dared to, committing one of the most heinous crimes imaginable, and was horribly punished. All descendants of Duke Thomas were banned from holding the crown, and if Thomas ever set foot in Winchester again, he would be castrated.
He had scurried to kneel in front of his father, "I am at your service, my Emperor." He had murmured, daring to look up at his father. Adorned with the crown of the heavens and grasping the Scepter of Vigilance; his red beard and hair, framed by the sunrise behind him, made him a regal image indeed.
"Rise, Rhod." His father had taken a breath and waited for him to meet his eyes. "My son, you will soon turn eighteen. That means you will embrace your birthright, just as your siblings and cousins before you have. I will ask you this now, what do you seek in a woman?"
Rhod had been stunned. He had never really thought about it before. He had always known that his father would provide him with a spouse. If he had fallen in love, his father would have let him marry for love; several of his siblings had. However, his lifelong love of reading had led to him being labelled as a scholar. Something that made even the maidservants, desperate to move up in the social order, disregard him entirely.
"W-w-well, sire... I-I-I-I am n-not really sure." Rhod nervously stammered, unprepared for the question he had just been thrown.
"I see." His father replied, a look of concentration adorning his face, giving the normally jovial man the appearance of anger.
"I suppose I-if I had to pick one thing, I would want someone that I could love, someone intelligent and kind." Rhod stammered before realizing the words that came out of his mouth and bracing for the inevitable mocking. His beliefs on this matter had long gotten him denigrated by many of his less sentimental brothers, sisters, and cousins.
His father had chuckled, "Well said, Rhod. In the end, that is what most people want...Just not the rest of the family. If only your siblings had similar inclinations. Alas..." the Emperor muttered as he stood up and walked to the stained-glass windows. "Very well, you shall have what you seek. You may go now, my son."
Rhod's mind wandered back to the present in time to see one of his father's darker skinned eunuchs rushed up to him. "My Prince, it is time." He spoke with a thick accent. 'Indian?' Rhod thought. "Come, we must get you to the throne room."
The walk was short, and he was entering the throne room in no time. He was entering it from the side, with the guests, various family members and vassals of his father, and their families on his right. On his left was a crowd of his father's wives, and ahead of him was Beorthric and Rhod's mother, Elise. The raven-haired woman's eyes were tinted red.
As he approached his father, the other side of the throne room came into view, revealing a stunning blonde approaching Beorthric. Her blonde hair was bound into a single massive, reaching past her shoulders, he caught glimpses of it as it swished with her every step; and her arms were lightly tanned, almost like the sun had gently kissed her skin. Rhod could see the simple white dress she wore, and as they neared each other, he quickly came to appreciate the way the garment seemed to guard her body; only to offer a series of brief, yet tantalizing views of the woman it concealed; hinting at the curves of her waist and ample chest.
As they met in the middle of the room Rhod was able to fully examine her face. She was beautiful, her face was a shade lighter than her arms, and it seemed perfect. If Rhod hadn't known better, he would have thought that she was divine-kin. Her beauty was enhanced by the smile on her face and the warmth that Rhod could see in her verdant green eyes.
"Ahem!"
Rhod jumped and turned to his father. His father, Beorthric, was smiling warmly. "Do you, Prince Rhoderick Wessex, agree to marry Angela Goff as your first wife and love?"
"I do, father."
"Do you, Angela Robertsdohter Goff, agree to marry Prince Rhoderick Beorthricson Wessex, and love him until the day you die?"
"I do, Emperor." Affirmed the blonde next to him. Even her voice was perfect to his ears.
"I pronounce you husband and wife, by the power vested in me by myself." Beorthric paused as few chuckles echoed from the audience, and to stifle a chuckle of his own. After a second or two, Beorthric began again with a wide smile on his face, "May you love and cherish each other, for all of your days."
Rhod turned to the young woman beside him, Angela, as he had learned. Unlike him, she didn't appear nervous. She reached out and gently touched his face, her fingers ever so softly caressed the Trace mark he had. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and he almost fainted when she pressed her lips to his.
It felt like an eternity, but he had the presence of mind to realize that it was probably less than a few seconds. Then it was all over. His wife's face retreated, a small smile on her face. She was astonishingly beautiful.
"Good." Beorthric's voice cut through Rhod's thoughts with ease. "Now kneel before your father, your emperor, my son and daughter." Rhod and his new wife did as they were bid, and he flushed with excitement as he heard the ring of metal being drawn. He felt the flat blade of the Conqueror press into each shoulder before his father spoke again.
"You kneel before me as my son, Prince Rhoderick Beothricson Wessex of Wessex. Now arise as my loyal vassal, Duke Rhoderick Beothricson Wessex of Willamettia!"
The royal family was all-consumed by politics, something that happens when nearly every duke and count in the realm has a claim to the Empire, an equal claim at that. But the Emperor had long banned politics talk at events like this. It wasn't fair to the newly established vassals to be exposed to the wolves this early. Of course, being a simple majority elective title, there were many factions, and none of which were particularly powerful. The lack of clear superiority made the efforts of over a dozen dukes to impress newly appointed vassals important, at least to their causes. Though, if Rhod was being honest, it just exhausted him. Especially since he wished to keep out of all of factionalism; the only other way to secure a shorter lifespan was to sleep with one of his father's wives.
Rhod and Angela were finally able to sit as the reception began, and their guests began to approach and offer their well wishes. Rhod lost count of the hands that he shook, and the amount of his siblings that tried to either hit on him or his wife. Angela had skillfully managed to deflect his brothers and sisters, while his own deflections were bumbling and probably not very effective. Though there were some lulls in the attempts of various groups seeking to influence the freshly minted duke, he took these opportunities to try and get to know his wife.
"So... Angela." Rhod began, in one such lull, "I hope that this isn't too overwhelming."
"It's close, but not quite. It's really quite illuminating." She replied thoughtfully, turning to face him.
"Oh? How so?" Rhod asked, legitimately interested in how this was anything but tedious. It was stretching him to his limit, and he had been raised for this. Or, as he had always thought of it, 'I was bred for politicking.'
"Well, your family is notoriously secretive. I was called to Wessex a few weeks ago, under the assumption that the Emperor was going to shift my company-" Angela began.
Rhod's mind was working at top speed, he knew that his father had summoned a bunch of arms manufacturers from all around the Empire about three weeks ago. A sudden realization struck him like a freight train. "Wait- I'm sorry, Angela. I am loathe to interrupt, but 'your company'? Are you the 'Goff' in 'Goff Arms Foundry'?" Rhod asked, feeling very stunned.
Nearly everyone knew the tale of Goff Arms Foundry. The company was founded in 814, by a castle smith in East Anglia. The man, Beorn the blacksmith, or goff, could mold steel that was superior to anything Emperor Beorthric could procure for his troops. Due to its superior quality and the approach of Beorthric's troops, Beorn had been hired from his native Brittany by the Lord of East Anglia. When the British Coalition of opposition finally fell in 830, Beorn even made money escaping to France and selling his steel to the French, Bretons, Frisians, and even the Germanic and Norse Tribes. Eventually, Beorn gave in and returned to Britain in 870 to serve the Empire.
Beorn's line continued to smith superior material up until 1446, when widespread rebellions forced the Emperor to change paradigms, shifting to mass production of guns. The Goff family fortune nearly disappeared, and they were relegated to sharing the market that they had previously solely governed. This remained the status quo until about five years ago when the last member of the Goff family shifted the family business away from guns, transferring instead to genetic and microscopic life, resulting in the creation of whole suite of biological tools.
He must have looked like a fish out of water or something else equally awkward, because Angela let out a quiet laugh before putting a hand in front of her mouth. The hand blocked her mouth from view the view of their guests, but not him.
"I might be the CEO and president..." She teasingly whispered, a bright twinkle in her eyes. "Though I can tell you the difference between the ancient woolly mammoth and the revived version."
"In what terms though?" Rhod asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to contain a smile.
"Both technical, and layman's." She offered. "Afterall, I made it."
