As usual, a thank you to Emma Kendrick for providing her thoughts on the chapter!
Glass of wine and bowl of fresh strawberries nearby, the Princess Gwennalyn reclined in her lodgings, on a cushioned bench, intently reading about the adventures of Afeza the Charred, an infamous orc pirate.
It was one of the many books from the city's well-stocked library. Earlier in the day, Korak, the throne's official chronicler, had guided her on a tour of the venerable structure. While older, more decayed writings were off-limits to all but him and a handful of others, the rest of the contents were open to the populace. There were sections devoted to literature from other cultures, but by and large the tomes were the works of orcish authors. Many were previous official chroniclers, some sage poets, others learned researchers. Like the library back home in Crownhold, the princess found herself in awe at the gathered wisdom and knowledge in the countless pages.
Korak had allowed her to borrow as many books as she had wanted. Three others waited nearby, with the princess excited to return to the library for more, but right now, Afeza had her attention.
Until a few minutes later, when a knock came at her door.
She was halfway there when she heard it open, heavy footsteps tramping over the threshold, accompanied by boisterous voices.
"I told you it was open!"
"Yeah, why would you think we'd have to knock, she should know we're coming."
"Whatever, now we know!"
Six burly orcs came into view, each dressed in plain clothes.
"Ah, there you are, princess!" one of them said cheerily as the sextet passed her, a few looking around and commenting on the luxurious space.
She watched as they settled onto the cushioned benches, a few resting their boots on the smooth marble table. One reached for her glass of wine and drank.
"What is this, princess?" he asked her, holding up the glass to peer into it, swishing the remaining contents around.
"...Estefaloni wine," she answered hesitantly.
"Hmm."
He finished the rest, grunting in satisfaction, then holding out the empty glass towards her.
"Delicious. We'll take six."
The princess blushed, but only nodded, taking his glass and padding over to the table.
Her fingers trembled as she retrieved six glasses and filled each with the fragrant wine. The orcs were chatting among themselves, paying her no mind, but there was a definite humiliation in the moment. A silver platter was nearby, so she placed the glasses on top, and lifted it carefully. The glasses tottered ever so slightly at her first step and continued to do so on her way back to the orcs.
How do the servants make this look so easy?
The orcs thanked her as each took a glass. She recognized a few of the faces as those who had participated in fucking her throat two nights ago.
Although the others were probably present as well.
"Are you actually a princess?" one of them asked her suddenly.
She nodded, her blush deepening.
"Like, you were born into a royal family? Dad's a king, mum's a queen?"
She nodded again.
"Are you sure?"
Her humiliation and arousal were briefly replaced by confusion.
"Um...yes."
One of the others grunted in annoyance.
"Let it go, Elim. She's a princess."
Elim scrutinized her closely.
"Did the prince pay you to say you're a princess?"
"If he did," another orc cut in, "why would she admit that to you?"
A strange swell of pride crept into the swirl of emotions, and she straightened her posture.
"I am Princess Gwennalyn Castell of the Free Lands, daughter of King Freirick, Ruler of the Free Lands, and Queen Sabrina, Mother of the Free Lands, sister of the princes and princesses Darien, Dawn, Dalwyn, and Avalyn."
The orcs fell silent for a few moments.
"She could've rehearsed that," the suspicious orc finally said to his companions.
"Oh, give it up, she's a princess!"
Elim shrugged.
"Probably. But this is something Vyren would pull. Hire a common woman and tell her to act like a princess."
"True. And yet this one just doesn't seem like a commoner. And why would he put her up in these quarters just to trick us? Nah, she's a princess."
"Whatever. I just find it hard to believe that a princess would enjoy or even tolerate what's been done to her. We ganged up on her throat and then ruined her cunt, and now she's serving us drinks. What kind of princess would like that?"
"The kind that gets off on it."
By then, whatever pride had bloomed inside her was gone, in its place the previous humiliation and arousal. The dismissive way they discussed her only added to both feelings.
"I don't care if she's a princess or a fishmonger."
"Yeah, she's a massive slut, that's the important part."
Elim grunted noncommittally.
The other orcs changed the topic of conversation, ignoring the princess again for a few minutes. Unsure of what exactly to do, she stood to the side, waiting for them to call upon her again.
"Princess," one of them addressed her after a few minutes, "why are you still wearing clothes?"
Her quim twitched at the question, and she immediately began to undress.
The same orc shook his head.
"Why are you undressing?"
Now confused, she paused the process of taking off her dress.
"Because...I thought..."
The orc stood and sauntered over to her. His imposing size forced her to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
"Did any of us tell you to take off your clothes?"
She shook her head, still confused, but as aroused as ever with him looming over her.
