Chapter 17: Sister's quarrel
(5,1k words, futa, female muscle, size comparison, dialogue, plot chapter, feats of strength, big curves, size praise, character motivation)
Early rays of sunlight danced over her warming skin as she passed by the richly decorated windows of the awakening palace. Listening to the bird's love songs was on par with the most bombastic of orchestral performances she had the pleasure of witnessing in the past. Even the air smelled somehow fresher.
What a difference taking care of her lust made in the morning she thought. All pent-up frustration over the last days was left at the bottom of Helena's bulging belly - who still laid collapsed on Margaret's bedroom floor. Next to her two apprentices.
What a delightful start to the day this had been and certainly much needed for today's challenges. She would need a clear mind and emotional balance, so much was certain. Especially considering who she wanted to talk to and hopefully sway to her side: Her by now more than imposing younger sister.
Who looked all things but overjoyed on how her sister took over the title as highking -- a title she was clearly meant to inherit herself not too long ago.
The paved way led into the eastern corner of the palace. A remote and calm place. The perfect playground for children, where they could let their playful voices echo from the walls without disturbing the affairs of kings and kingmakers.
Just like the two princesses who both spent countless days in their own made-up fantastical world there, which was barely limited by the back then sky-high walls. At a time when their biggest worry was about what "adventure" they would want to go on next.
A wave of nostalgia swept over Margaret as she looked over the inner courtyard, with the pathways coming together from all directions around the massive tree trunk at the foot of the biggest tree in the palace. Some would say even the entire kingdom.
It was one of the last of its kind, far taller and stronger than any ordinary tree and ancient enough to reside at the hill long before the first walls rose to challenge its towering might. A relic of the past for many, but to the two princesses: a childhood friend the two traversed in every way possible.
The new king's cheeks rose on their own when she remembered one of the last occasions when she and her sister played together like that. Climbing at the top of the tree, pretending they were overseeing the ocean and guiding ships into the harbour town from their "lighthouse".
The tree didn't age one day as it seemed, while the rest of the world around felt colder and emptier with every passing moment. It stood steadfast like the king remembered all her life and in a changing kingdom preserved something that was almost lost to Margaret these days -- a fleeting trace of childish innocence.
Margaret listened to the birds nesting in the branches above her and for a few moments felt content with letting her mind stray from her initial task. Seeing her wooden friend after all this time made the prospect of trying to climb it once more immensely appealing. Just to return to their imaginary world one last time. But her new figure wasn't one that allowed such acrobat feats anymore. Nor was the prospect of climbing a tree in plain sight of her guards considered "royal" behaviour either.
She sighed when forcing herself to avert her gaze from its beauty and focusing back on the groaning coming from the other side which demanded her undivided attention.
"Good morning, my king. You are early," the tallest of the three guards said as Margaret approached them.
"Good morning to you as well, Flavia. It's too beautiful of a day to spend most of it in bed, isn't it?" Margaret mused and frowned when she remembered that kingmother often used to say exactly that.
The grunting grew louder as the blonde stood closer to the place which she and her sister most often claimed for their adventures.
"I am not the first to visit our old friend, am I?" Margaret said and lovingly laid a hand on the tree.
"No. Your sister is working out at this time of day," Flavia said.
"At this time of day? You mean every day?" Margaret said.
"Every day. And most days more than once."
Margaret noticed the approval and admiration in Flavia's voice, just like in the mute gazes of her two sisters in arms next to her. They were inspired by traits like strength, discipline and frightening determination to the point of bordering to obsession. Of course, they were, after serving kingmother for so long. And Sybilla clearly aspired to follow her mothers' example, not just in appearance but also in her daily routine.
"I see. You three must feel tired of guarding her this early every day. Take a rest for once and make it a lavish one. You earned it. I will look after her myself for a bit," Margaret said with a playful tone with the slightest but noticeable trace of royal authority.
All three exchanged confused looks until Flavia was the first to understand their kings unspoken demand ... and knew she was in no position to question such a request.
"As you wish my king," she said and bowed first, quickly followed by the other two guards. "We will return once you want us to."
"You have my gratitude," Margaret smiled warmly. "Feel free to stroll around a bit. It's too beautiful of a day to waste it just on guard duty."
"As you wish, my king," the guardswoman said knowingly.
She tried to hide the questioning tone in her voice, but failed when withstanding the king's gaze. Leaving their post was considered a sacrilege within the royal guard. Nothing would make them forget about their oath to protect the royal family, not even for a brief moment. Unless their king ordered them to. Margaret's words, regardless of how warm and considerate at first glance, were exactly that -- orders.
The guards reluctantly made their way towards the exit of the inner courtyard, just to turn around and catch a last glance of Margaret's stern blue eyes assertively guiding them on their way out. The king wanted no one to eavesdrop, even her trusted guards. Maybe... especially her trusted guards.
This shall be a conversation between sisters, not a confrontation of two princesses who might find themselves fighting over the loyalty of their most loyal protectors. A fight Margaret wasn't sure she could win.
The blonde composed herself and envisioned how the conversation should turn out, but as usual there is no certainty in what Sybilla was up to. The good or the bad. Yet, fear did not take hold of her. For now.
Margaret's heavy footsteps already announced her arrival long before she was in sight of her exhausted sister. That didn't make the younger princess stop her workout though. Her punches flew hard and fast into the trembling sandbag -- with her fist's imprints remaining visible long after each blow.
"I wondered when you would come," Sybilla muttered.
Her breath was deep but steady. She was going for it for quite some time already. Every strain of her bulging back and shoulders surged with muscle, with sweat trickling past her neck, down her lazy ponytail and all the way down to her sweaty pants.
