Chapter 1. Queen Adelaide and Prince Caylan
Caylan carefully guided his brush across the large canvas, where the figure of a gorgeous woman emerged through thick layers of paint. Her dark hair cascaded down to her shoulders, and plump thick thighs were crossed as she sat on a chair in a beautiful pearlescent dress, with a subtle hint of a neckline. Her large breasts, almost the size of her head, barely fit under the dress and protruded forward.
Caylan tilted his head to get a better look at the painting and thought for the first time, "Maybe I made her breasts too big."
"How much longer will it take?" Adelaide sighed. She was sitting a few meters away from the easel, identical to the drawing. "To be honest, I'm pretty tired, darling. I never imagined that sitting and doing nothing for so long could be so exhausting."
She tossed her black braids back, straightening her bosom. Her neckline was much deeper than in the portrait, the base of her two beautiful curves peeking out from the dress. She wearily rested her hand under the head.
Caylan remained silent. He glanced at the drawing again, then at his muse. "I'm almost finished, Mum. Just a few more strokes and it'll be ready. May I remind you that you agreed to it by yourself?"
"A little 'thanks' would be enough," she smiled, and adorable dimples appeared on her cheeks. "It's better if you tell me how the painting is coming along. Do I look beautiful?" She straightened up confidently and adjusted her chest.
"No painting can capture the full spectrum of your beauty, Mum." And it was true; she was so damn gorgeous. Caylan blushed after saying it.
"Thank you, dear. That's very sweet. I love it when you're so sweet to me," she sighed, her boobs rising. Adelaide shifted in her chair once again, her large bottom aching from sitting for so long. She glanced toward the view. It was a terrace with a garden at the very top of the Aetherfall
Royal Fortress. The entire city, Aetherfall, was adorned with plants, palms, and vegetation that wrapped around the brick huts and buildings.
Aetherfall looked like a jungle where houses and people had suddenly sprung from the earth.
Caylan carefully dipped his brush into the paint and made the neckline on her chest a little larger. He guided the brush further and further, making the neckline as it truly was--more and more beautiful, deeper and deeper. He couldn't take his eyes off her boobs from behind the easel, trying to capture every detail, noticing every little dark spot, every pore, every vein, scar, wrinkle. He bit his lip; her boobs were so...
A hand from behind rested on his shoulder.
"What a beautiful painting," said Alistair, smiling and lowering his head. "You have talent, my son." The king, with gray hair and a short beard, ruffled Caylan's black hair. The prince quickly changed the sharp cut on the pearl dress, hoping his father hadn't noticed anything.
"Did you see, dear? I can't believe he learned that on his own. I never would have thought our son would be such an outstanding artist."
"I can't share your enthusiasm." Adelaide rose, signaling that the drawing session was over. "Caylan doesn't show me his work until it's finished."
Caylan lowered the easel face down as his mother stepped closer, giving her husband a kiss. He sat back in his chair and held back from looking at the pair of large breasts hanging just above the level of his head. He thought he saw a hint of a nipple popping through the dress, so he turned the other way, still blushing.
"I hate it so much when he keeps secrets from me. I taught him to walk, after all, and put him to my breast, my heart, so he would drink my milk and become strong." Like Alistair, she rubbed her son's head. It made his hair stand up, black short locks sticking out in all directions.
"I'm sure he knows what he's doing. He's been incredibly precise in accentuating your beautiful lush thighs, love." He kissed her again, ruffling his beard with her chin.
Caylan turned away. Alistair's hands rested on mum's thighs.
"Enough, darling." The Queen, with a strong smacking sound, finally pulled him away from her lips. "I'm sure you're telling the truth. Cay has always been very attentive to details in his paintings."
"Have you thought of drawing your mother without a dress? I would love to have such a drawing in our chambers." Alistair adjusted his green crown and smiled through all the white teeth.
Adelaide, frowning, slapped his chest.
"Auh, what did I say wrong? I'm not kidding. Imagine your body on an easel, captured forever in time. And it's painted by our son."
If Caylan was just red before, now he was as red as a tomato. The situation was not improved at all by how close her boobs still were to his face. He glanced at Adelaide, imagining his mother sitting naked before the easel, her full breasts exposed. And she just sits there, looking at him, waiting for him to paint her breasts, her body with its creamy, soft beige skin and...
"Don't be foolish," Adelaide interrupted his thoughts, adjusting the straps of her dress as if ensuring that her milky body was indeed concealed. "Look at how you've embarrassed poor Caylan. I'm sure he doesn't want to see my old woman body. Our son isn't supposed to see it; it's inappropriate. I know, Alistair, how lustful you can be, but keep your desires to yourself."
"If our son is not supposed to see you without clothes, then who is?" Alistair smirked, patting his son on the back. "Do you want some artist from Nundia to draw you naked?"
"First of all, I do not need a drawing of my naked body in our room!" said Adelaide.
Caylan finally found the strength to stand up and hide the drawing. At 18 years old, he was slightly shorter than the voluptuous Adelaide and much shorter than his thin father.
"Did you want to ask something or did you just disturb us while Caylan and I were alone?" Adelaide put her hands on her hips, raising one eyebrow.
"I just wanted to take a break." Alistair thoughtfully approached the parapet, which overlooked Aetherfall. "The council said that the rebels from the Pit are gathering after their escape to overthrow me. They seek revenge for..."
Adelaide interrupted him with a corresponding gesture of her head. Caylan didn't see what she indicated, but it surely had something to do with him. Even at 18, Adelaide and Alistair considered him a child.
"My son loves to draw and hunt with a bow." He once heard his father's voice in the Council Hall. "He has inherited too much from his mother. Adelaide comes from places where people enjoy drinking wine, playing the lute, and having affairs with everyone except blood relatives. The younger sisters of Caylan are much better suited to be king than this boy. Adelaide gave me wonderful daughters, but a disappointing son."
Caylan silently gathered his paints and brushes into a bag. What he heard that day, a few months ago, replayed so vividly in his mind that it felt like he was hearing it again, right there on that terrace.
"Surely it's just Di'Rose stirring up the atmosphere." Adelaide gently rubbed Alistair's back. He was 58, the king was thin, narrow-shouldered, and had a hooked nose. Caylan, though still shorter, was broader in the shoulders and more robust.
Adelaide pressed her left boob against her husband's arm. Caylan glanced at them over his shoulder, pretending he was still gathering stuff.
