That evening after hunting, Richard carried what he had procured into the tavern's kitchens before heading through into the bar. Damon slapped him on the back and cheered before getting back to the business of drinking and playing cards. Richard wondered briefly if Margaret was around, before settling into a seat at the bar, trying to come up with a plan.
Unable to see the couple, Richard was surprised but happy to see his friend Nadia approaching, a full-figured woman with long black hair and the kind of tawny-brown, approaching golden skin that put him in mind of a sunset in the forest. He felt himself stiffen as she smiled, drinking in her warmth. Their friendship was mostly cordial, though Richard had more than once plunged his cock deep into her as she steadied herself against the bar he was now sitting at, after hours. Nadia worked and lived here, keeping the place clean. Despite rarely being without a boyfriend, she had a somewhat relaxed approach to monogamy, but her kind and loving nature made it all too easy for Richard to see why someone might be persuaded to try. They would be disappointed, of course, as Nadia almost absent-mindedly started orgies in her bedroom, but this just further endeared her to Richard.
He was fond of those who felt no reason to be anything other than themselves.
"Richard!" She beamed, slamming a beer down on to the counter, the splashing drink almost threatening to spill out and on to her large, barely contained breasts in her low cut dress. "How the fuck are you?"
"Nadia!" Richard stood up, and moved to hug Nadia from the side, smiling and kissing her cheek before sitting back down. He inwardly noted Nadia glance down at his thickening cock under his trousers, and smiled again. "I'm great, all the better for seeing your beautiful self tonight." Her dress was a sparkling and radiant blue colour, a step above most of the clothing in Mearhaven. Plenty of envious eyes would be upon her, and Richard knew that anyone's tongue in the tavern would be licking its way up her soft, full thighs tonight if she so wished.
"Where the hell did you get that dress? You look amazing!" Richard asked.
"Oh, you like?" Nadia batted her eyes in faux-modesty, turning to show off the cut of the dress, the way she was turning putting Richard in mind to picture her in place atop his cock. "My new boyfriend got it for me. It's a gift," she explained, her eyes fixed upon his, her expression waiting for Richard to transgress, push further into the role she had assigned to him.
"Then he is a lucky man indeed," Richard replied, taking his own beer into his hand, "to have such riches and beauty before him." He took a drink.
"A servant of the Duke, I am told... Though I of course kneel before any I wish." Her hot, thick calf brushed against Richard's as she drank from her own beer. It remained there, as Richard saw her soft, glorious thighs spreading almost imperceptibly slowly beneath her dress. "Do you kneel before the Duke, Richard? Or are you one of those vile traitors, who would slip behind him and force a dagger to his back?" Richard felt her calf push up against his, as she flexed and pushed out her sizable and clearly wanting arse for emphasis at the end of this barely concealed entendre.
"I suppose... Well, I might do either yet..." Richard trailed off, brought suddenly and unwillingly into contemplation over the thought of betraying the Duke, sexual innuendo though it may be.
Nadia noticed the shift in Richard's thoughts, her face moving towards concern after it became clear that he wasn't just flustered. She extended her hand across the table, calf still pressing against his, and put her palm upon his wrist. "Richard? Is something wrong?"
Richard's expression moved from contemplating an idea to contemplating the result. "Nadia, I..." Nadia was a good friend, and he knew that she could be trusted, but he didn't know where his path was going to lead. He leaned in towards her, conspiratorially. Lowering his voice, he told of his meeting with the married couple, and of their suspicious packages, presented as 'gifts' for the Duke.
