Twenty-five
"I cannot believe that we are late for the Emperor's Ball," Else fumed.
Jarl sighed. It was not his fault that his disaster of a wife had spent five bells having an army of maids doing her hair. And it wasn't his fault that there had been an overturned carriage at the bridge over to Palace Hill.
"Are those men setting fire to that building?" Jarl said looking over at a dozen men carrying torches.
There was something truly strange going on in the city. Jarl was sure he had seen a dozen mobs roaming the streets and more than once their guards had had reason to draw their swords to make sure the carriage got the right of way.
"I do not care if they are setting fire to the entire city. We are not stopping. Oh, by the Seventh. I am sure that the first dance has already started. The disgrace," Else moaned.
"Oh. Just shut up. If you only could be useful and suck my cock," Jarl sighed.
The inside of the carriage went utterly silent. Jarl felt Else's burning gaze on his face.
"I said that out loud, didn't I?"
More silence.
"Do you honestly think I would ruin my face and hair to satisfy you," said in a tone cold enough to shatter a mountain. "The face and hair that took the last two bells−"
"Five bells," Jarl interjected.
"The last two bells," Else repeated, her words jarring Jarl's teeth. "Only so that we could get your embarrassment of a rod to finally give us a rest?"
Jarl sighed. Yes. That was exactly what he wanted. Some relief. Even though it was over a week since he had last been with the Mistresses, his cock still ached constantly when it went more than a few bells between releases. The only thing, other than a woman, that gave relief, was working magic. And he was not allowed to do that here, outside of College Hill. It would take another five years until he could legally practice magic in the presence of outsiders. In a way he envied the Matrimancers that could practice their arts at the parlors already in the first year.
"Well. You can't go to the Emperor's Ball like that," Else spat.
Jarl looked down at his proud member that tried its best to escape the dark fabric of his dress pants.
"It's not my fault," he croaked, despising how childish it made him sound.
"You."
Jarl looked up. Else hadn't been talking to him. One of her handmaids that were seated across from them stared in horror at his wife.
"Yes, mistress?" she whimpered.
Jarl wasn't sure he had seen her before. She was a raven-haired girl with an angular face, not too pretty, but not ugly either. Else went through handmaids faster than he went through clean shirts in a summer afternoon. And he never did keep track of Else's handmaids in the first place, at least not their faces. He tried looking at her ass, maybe he had had her once or twice from behind? He wasn't sure.
"Well. What are you waiting for girl? Make yourself useful."
The handmaid blushed fiercely.
"Go on. Relieve my husband with your mouth. And makes sure that none of his seed stains his pants. We are disgraced enough already."
The handmaid swallowed audibly and after another angry glare from Else she got down on her knees in front of Jarl. The other two handmaids did their best to look out the windows as the girl took Jarl's flesh into her mouth.
"Now. Don't make a fool of yourself tonight," Else said looking down at the girl pleasing him. "I am intending to climb the ladder of Eldor society, and I can't do it if you keep making yourself look like an fool."
Jarl sighed, partly in pleasure, partly in disgust. He closed his eyes and focused on the young woman's lips around his shaft. The carriage rocked into motion again, and the girl's face was pressed against him, making his flesh push deeper into her mouth. And it felt so good. He grabbed the girl's head and tried to shut out Else's nagging voice as she kept on about some noble or other. It felt like it took an eternity before he finally released his seed into the handmaid's throat.
***
"Here. Drink."
Jarl took the cup that Master Cerdic offered him and put it to his lips. It tasted strange. But it also tasted strong. Which was just what he needed right now. It had taken another half a bell to get to the palace gate, and yet another to get to the ballroom. Else had been furious when she realized that not only had they missed the first dance; it was well into the second as they entered.
She had disappeared a few drops ago saying something about a countess that she just had to meet with. Without him. He didn't mind being left on his own one single bit. He had been standing by a table when the Master found him.
"Bad princess day?"
Jarl nodded. Master Cerdic was probably the only person in the world who was fully on his side with regards to Else. Even Mirja had seemed to take his wife's side lately. He took another sip of the drink. By the Seventh, this stuff had a kick!
"What is this?" Jarl said holding his cup up.
"My own concoction," the Master said with a smile and a wink. "Nothing better."
Jarl nodded in agreement and took another sip. He looked out over the ballroom dancefloor. A few dozen couples were spinning around out there, but the size of the room made it look almost deserted. Then he spotted Sigrid. She was twirling around a tall man in a dark robe, similar to the one Master Cerdic was wearing. It took him a moment to recognize Master Olgric.
He blinked. The Sister looked absolutely stunning. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders and Jarl thought he could see a smile on her face. His hand went down to his crotch, grabbing his single remaining testicle. For some reason he was not even angry with her. She was the first one who had ever come through on a threat, and it strangely enough made him respect her more than before. And it wasn't like he was missing it. His cock seemed to work fine with the single one.
It had apparently taken him days to realize it was gone. In fact, it had been Mistress Varja who had made the discovery. When Jarl confronted Sigrid about it, she had pulled out the pendant and simply said. You should be more careful.
She caught him watching her and from then on, her gaze settled on him every time that she spun around. And her smile was gone. Jarl sighed and turned to Master Cerdic.
"Great stuff," he said downing the last of his cup. "Got any more?"
***
The bells struck ten. Jarl had downed another two cups of the Master's drink. And the room was spinning in a most satisfactory way. The Master was over by one of the large pillars and talking to a woman in a sparkling green dress that looked strangely familiar, but Jarl just couldn't place her. She did have a large ample bosom that drew Jarl's attention.
He walked across the floor over to the Master and his friend. Some people were in his way, but they were much smaller than him so they either fell over or got out of his way the best they could. He thought he heard a few curses, but he was beyond caring.
"Who is your friend," Jarl said leering down into the woman's cleavage, then up at her face.
Jarl blinked. She looked eerily familiar. Like someone out of a dream.
"This is my friend from the east," Master Cerdic said. "This is prince Jarl of the Stormpikes and the Wild Ranges."
