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Part Three picks up where Part Two left off. Be advised that if you haven't read Part One and Part Two, the story may be quite difficult to follow.
This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, most chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.
All characters are over eighteen. All acts are consensual.
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I woke up in the stiff bed in my room in the Supplicants' Hall. Someone sat on the bed beside me. I felt her Libido, though it was dim and, at the moment, cold.
"Frank!"
Wendy. Yes, that was Wendy's voice.
She threw her arms around my neck, knocking the wind out of me. But when she heard me cough, she eased up. I reached up and stroked her unruly brown hair with one hand.
"How long was I out?" I asked.
"Four days," she said. "Well, four nights, at any rate. But you know what I mean."
"Shit," I said. "What's happened in the meantime?"
"Nothing," she said. "At least, not that I'd know. I, um, haven't...."
Left my side. Of course not. She might not have the kind of feelings for me that she had for Iva, but Wendy wasn't the kind of person for whom that mattered.
"No word from Mel or Sean?"
Wendy shook her head.
I groaned as I tried to sit up. A stab of pain immediately forced me to lie back down.
Gesturing at my leg, Wendy said, "You were lucky to close that back up, you know."
"Why are we still here?" I asked.
I poured energy slowly into the wounded leg, and weeks' worth of healing took place in a matter of moments. It left me worse than tired, but at least the pain was gone. I raised the leg, bent it at the knee, tested the range of motion. As if nothing had ever happened.
"Should we go?"
I sighed. "No." I rubbed my temples. "We can't just leave Mel and Sean."
"That's what I was thinking," she whispered. "Though, I might have lied just a moment ago. About not hearing from them."
I laughed. "That was quick."
"Yeah, well," she blushed. What she didn't say, didn't
{need
to say, was that I'd been in excruciating pain a moment ago. "Anyway, they said not to worry about them."
"Why not?"
Wendy fussed with her hair. "They'd rather go home, of course, but they're not in any danger. And they would be, if we tried to help them escape."
"There's got to be
{something
we can do," I said.
"She said she'd disown you and worse if you tried."
Brave little Mel. If only she knew what she was getting into.
"She also said that she's pretty sure she'd be in more danger back in Autumn," Wendy added. "She doesn't think you realize it, but she's well aware that your grandmother is about one bad day away from declaring all of House Orwin traitors to the realm." Wendy placed a palm against my cheek. "Of course, the queen wouldn't let her. I just know she wouldn't. But your niece might be onto something. You know that, right?"
I didn't reply.
"You belong to both houses. And you already gave up the throne once. So it's hard for her to argue when Iva insists that you're not a threat. She's obviously not persuaded either, but she doesn't argue. Unfortunately, it's a little different with Mel and Sean. Kaitlin can hardly bear to hear anyone say their names."
"Fuck," I said. "You're right."
Wendy smiled softly. Not so wide as to reveal the slight gap between her front teeth, but wide enough to show her cute dimples.
"Sleep now," she said, planting a kiss on my forehead.
I wanted to protest. Wanted to insist that I was fine. But the words came out as mumbles.
When I next awoke, everything was exactly as it had been when I fell asleep. Wendy was still sitting next to me, in the same exact place.
"Just a few hours," she said, in response to my unspoken question.
And just a few hours after
{that
, we headed back to Autumn. In the meantime, Wendy showed me just how much she could enjoy the company of men after all.
#
When we got back, Wendy bid me an awkward farewell. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or slighted by that. I chose amused.
Much as I dreaded having to tell him about Mel and Sean, I owed it to Todd to go see him. But just as I was about to do so, I remembered all the things Iva and Wendy had said about my grandmother,a nd I decided I'd better go to court first. It wouldn't do to give Grandma Kaitlin reason to think House Orwin was loyal to itself and not the throne.
The royal palace had changed a great deal since I'd stepped down. In contrast with its present appearance, it had looked almost modest back when Brianna sat the throne. The imposing castle, with its dark stone battlements, would not have looked out of place in the Shadowed Glade of the Moon.
Not exactly what I'd expected.
Liveried guards, who wore chain mail and carried freaking halberds, escorted me to the throne room. The throne itself, carved from oak and heavily gilded, was twice as large as the one upon which I'd sat.
The outfit my aunt wore almost made me want to laugh. Or tremble. Or both.
She was certainly taking her new position seriously, that was for sure.
Her red silk dress had a tall collar trimmed with ermine, and the bodice was decked with diamonds and pearls. The neckline plunged nearly to her abdomen, exposing a great swath of delicious cleavage. Her white knee high stockings were trimmed with red ribbons and tiny little diamonds. Her heels were thickly crusted with diamonds and bore one fat ruby apiece near their tips. A golden tiara, also heavily adorned with rubies, diamonds and pearls, sat just a bit askew atop her golden hair. She held a golden scepter that, of course, was likewise crusted with a stunning amount of rubies, diamonds, and pearls.
In contrast, my grandmother, who stood just behind the throne, wore a simple black leather dress. Yet, as modest as her own attire was, something told me she was responsible for all the grandiose trappings of power with which Iva now surrounded herself.
In fact, the moment Iva laid eyes on me, she blushed and looked away.
For her part, Grandma's thin lips pressed together tightly.
Though I desperately wanted to make a joke, I bit my tongue and went down on one knee, head bowed. "Your Majesty," I said, hoping my voice sounded reverent and humble.
As I spun my tale, both Iva's embarrassment and Grandma's wariness faded. Neither was pleased, but I suspect for rather different reasons.
After I finished, Iva simply said that I must be exhausted and offered to have a room prepared for me. "That won't be necessary," I said, before adding, "Your Grace."
"But we insist," my grandmother said.
Did the queen wince at that?
"If Your Majesty has no further need of me, I'd just as soon go see my brother. He should hear the news from me, and sooner rather than later."
"That won't be necessary," Grandma said.
A moment later, the throne room had melted away. We were now in a treehouse unlike any I'd ever seen, built around what must have been a massive oak tree. One wall of the room we occupied consisted solely of the trunk, which had to be fifteen feet across. A hole had been carved out of the trunk and a stone hearth set in it. The other walls were open, save for a two-foot high rail. There was no ceiling.
Two couches, one large enough for three people, formed an L in one corner of the room. The couches faced a large TV that sat atop an entertainment center. A king sized bed occupied another corner of the room. Where the lamps and TV and video game consoles got their electricity, I couldn't have said.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Your prison," Iva said, voice heavy with resignation.
Grandma rolled her eyes. "If you can call it that, comfortable as it is."
Iva didn't even look me in the eye as she said, "I'm sorry, Frank."
For a brief moment, I considered doing something stupid. But between the two of them, there was enough power lined up against me that there was only one way for that to end.
"Now, the last Orwin to be replaced by a Farrier, she was put in