The Velcin Dynasty

Author's Note - This series is a continuation of 'The Prince's Potion,' and set around twenty years later. Though not necessary, I strongly recommend reading those stories prior to this one. I realize my stories are not for everyone. If you're not interested in exaggerated sex organs, incest, inbreeding, and medieval/fantasy settings, this may not be for you. I thank you all for the continued support and the feedback!

All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older.

Chapter 2 - RISUK

Exposed to the freezing rain, Prince Vyman Velcin ran back to the consulate.

The eighteen year old son of Rodmond and Gilly Velcin had been in the capital city of Risuk, the center kingdom of the continent, for nearly four months. As the newly appointed Ambassador of Trevilan, he quickly became accustomed to Risuk's high society, exclusive events, and status the position offered him, naturally befitting a royal abroad.

While he had quickly adjusted to the local dialects and Risuk's bafflingly tall people, the dreadfully frigid climate and weather, namely the rain, rain, and more rain, unnervingly cold for most of the year in this high altitude, was something he simply had no interest in ever getting used to.

The normally well-maintained teenage prince did his best to dodge the rain as he ran the two blocks home along uneven cobbled streets. He was already soaking wet. He soon stopped to stand under a storefront's colourful awning and waited to see if would abate, eyeing other townsfolk also trying to dodge the deluge.

While he did, he reflected on this morning's agenda at the palace.

Vyman had been there all morning. In his role as representative of his father's kingdom, the youngest son of King Rodmond largely enjoyed free access to great gilded halls of The Royal Wren Family's ancient castle. It still amazed him, with its dizzyingly tall arched ceilings and maze like hallways, covered in epic tapestries and paintings. The giant, foreboding keep, and this town, situated strategically in a valley at the base of a legendary snow-capped mountain called Rizor, was an inspiring sight for Vyman, with expansive forests and wetlands surrounding it. He thought it made castle Trevilan look like a modest country manor home.

Despite the cold, the young prince loved it here. He loved exploring the halls and gardens, the hedge maze, the libraries. It was all so wonderfully... different from that of his coastal homeland.

This morning he had sat in a joint ambassadorial meeting with other representatives and the queen's royal advisor. The meeting had gone much longer than necessary but Vyman didn't mind. He enjoyed just being present in the room, being in the palace, and learning. While the other dignitaries appeared to take their role in a largely ceremonial manner, given the five kingdoms were presently at peace, Vyman took his duties quite seriously.

That didn't mean the others took him seriously, nor did he have their respect. Vyman was the youngest Ambassador among them by at least two decades. A fact they frequently felt the need to remind him of. The prince of Trevilan was well aware that the other men and women of the council thought of him as nothing more than an insult to their profession, given that he was just a boy.

They just didn't get it, Vyman thought, they don't understand what I am trying to achieve here. Let them misjudge me.

Though progressing slower than he would like, Vyman had made significant strides in bolstering trade between Risuk and Trevilan, by sea, which was his primary agenda in these meetings. It was no easy task, given how smoothly trade operated historically for Risuk, and its closest neighbours, by land.

There were, thankfully, several things going for him. The first was his presentation. Vyman, small for his age, and had not yet filled out, still had that youthful face. He wore his black hair short and well-kept. He dressed impeccably, alternating in both traditional Trevilan garbs of the finest quality and color, as well as in the local fashion.

Well educated, he was articulate, personable, and charismatic, which surprised many given his appearance. Still, though Vyman could be patient and understanding with others, he was also inexperienced with life and excitable, a slave to his passions, his emotions. In short, he was still a teenager.

Even so, he was intelligent and that youthful demeanour was merely on tactic he regularly employed so that the others underestimated him. They waved him off as a high born placeholder to a real politician. Vyman, in truth, had received the best education in politics and Risukan history by Trevilan scholars, which had prepared him, over the last five years, to do exactly this job. He had been sent here specifically to undermine the work this council sought to achieve, to steer it away from trade over open land borders, and strengthen it with Trevilan by sea.

The second thing going for Vyman was his ally in these meetings. The ambassador from Balmudia. While technically still one of the five kingdoms, Bamudia, the other southern kingdom on the continent, was presently under the occupation of Trevilan, and had been so for more than ten years now.

Even now, his older brother Marcus Velcin was chief regent in Balmudia's capital city and married to the kingdoms only surviving member of its royal family, the beautiful Quizia Remo. Publicly, Trevilan's presence there was an on-going relief effort, but Vyman knew his family had no intent on leaving Balmudia.

All of that to say the Balmudian ambassador, Amyzek Zalor, a deliciously busty woman in her early forties, and a well-educated politician and historian on continental fiefdoms, was naturally under the thumb of Trevilan, and, by extension, Vyman. This fact was no secret among the other ambassadors, of course, but Amy didn't go out of her way to publically support all of Vyman's lobbying. She played her part well all the same.

Naturally, prince Vyman was keen to exercise this political asset as often as he could and visited the Balmudian consulate twice a week just to fuck her in the ass.

Yes, he had been a busy boy for the last four months.

The other thing he had gotten up to here was much closer to his heart. A much more covert mission in Risuk. Shortly after arriving in the frosty kingdom, his ulterior motive was to court the only daughter of Queen Wren, Princess Sambrette Wren, twenty-two years old and, for the moment, single and promised to no one.

He had his work cut out for him. The Risuk royal family, though spared from the ravages of the plague which had roamed the continent less than twenty years ago, had suffered its own tragedies nonetheless. King Wren and his two sons, the male heirs to the throne, had been lost at sea nearly five years ago.

Queen Wembretta Wren, forty something years old, was a changed woman, and evidently not the same ruler she had been now that the kingdom was without her husband and sons. It was said the pressures of ruling and the loss of her family had done a great deal of damage to the queen's mind. The monarchy now relied largely on a small army of advisors and dignitaries, politicians and diplomats, to oversee the massive kingdom.

Being in the center of the land mass, Risuk enjoyed a scenic coastline in only the north and the south of the crescent moon shaped land continent. Situated between Sar Sanrosan to the east and Gristult to the west, Risuk had historically always held the closest alliances with both kingdoms.

Trevilan and Balmudia, which held the two lower points of the continent, had often gone to great lengths to maintain diplomatic relations with Risuk, an economic powerhouse of precious stones and metals, and with a population that, for the last twenty years, had thrived, despite the plague elsewhere.

It was not perfect by any means. Sea trade was not its strong suit. Risuk's coastline was brief and rocky, only a few towns were situated on its hazardous shores. It commanded no great navy, and did most of its trade by land with its closest kingdoms. This fact, that it was the least sea-faring kingdom, was an ironic twist given the recent disappearance of males in the royal family.

Prince Vyman had to learn about all this history when he was growing up. The Balmudian ambassador also did a lot to explain the complexities of their royal foothold, the importance of Risuk's resources, to him, especially while he fucked her miserable brains out during their tutoring sessions. The lusty woman had a knack for yammering away at him even during sex.

Vyman, like all Velcins, was the product of years and years' worth of royal inbreeding, and aided by their ancient arcane arts to ensure no abnormalities were present. Magic was a given on the continent but its existence, and those who could wield it, were largely considered to be an anachronism.

Few truly understood how the arcane worked or why. Novices and amateurs usually ended up getting killed by their own experiments. Though it was said to have at one time flourished across the land, magic and spell casting was now considered to be as taboo as incest, with only one school still in existence that explored its nature and mysteries.

Vyman, a product of both taboos, understood little of such arts but this didn't stop him from benefitting from them. His family, the ruling House Velcin of Trevilan, had long incorporated magic into their breeding for over four generations to ensure their line continue without diluting the bloodline. It had also solidified their penchant for oversized primary and secondary sex organs.

Now it was his generation's mission to branch out and secure powerful stations in other societies, to marry into other ruling families and expand their rule across the land, so as to prevent another occurrence of their near extinction, like what happened more than twenty years ago.

To that end, he had been trying to court the beautiful Sambrette Wren since arriving. But this endeavour proved to be his most difficult challenge yet. He had had only two meetings with her when he had first arrived and they had gone abysmally.

Princess Sambrette was almost four years older than him and practically a foot taller. She was stunningly exotic, athletic, and curvy. She was brilliant, funny, and personable. A spitting image of her mother, Sam had lusciously long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a round, pretty face that one was immediately drawn to due to the contrast between her big eyes and her pale skin. She had succulent, permanently puckered lips. Her full perky tits rested high on her chest, and she had a fat round ass that gravity had yet to claw at. Her long legs were toned and in immaculate shape, powerfully built from years of physical exercise.

In short, Vyman knew she was completely out of his league.

He could barely form coherent sentences around her. Luckily, the princess seemed to have that effect on all her would-be suitors. Men of all ages were naturally attracted to her but evidently found her quite intimidating upon speaking to her.

Vyman liked to think he was confidant and funny, and he had been told he was charming and friendly, but after only speaking with the princess two or three times, even he had to admit, he didn't have much of chance either.

There had to be a reason why the princess had made it this long without getting married or finding even an amenable male suitor. And yet, this was his true purpose here.

He had been sent to Risuk to seduce Sambrette.

Presently, Vyman shook his head, like a wet dog, and decided to press on. This rain wasn't going to end any time soon. He soon hurried through the downpour and, after a few minutes of freezing rain, made it up to the front gates of the consulate grounds.

Upon entering the grounds, and despite the heavy rain pelting his face, Vyman noticed a four horse carriage being reined in on the left hand side of the manor. Someone was directing it into the stables. He squinted but didn't recognize the carriage. That didn't mean much, he thought. It could be Amy, careful about her method of travel during the day - though he had just seen her this morning, and neither of them had made any such plans or mentioned a tryst for later.

Prince Vyman shrugged and wasn't about to spend any more time thinking about it standing out here in the rain. He ran across the courtyard and up the stone steps to the manor's double doors.

Walking into the spacious consulate's foyer, Vyman found things considerably dryer if not warmer. Dripping all over the marble floor, he was surprised to see that there was no fire lighted in the reception room. Where was everyone? He had brought about a dozen servants and advisors with him from Trevilan, along with twelve of his father's personal guards, who were seasoned soldiers of Trevilan, though perhaps more suited for the battlefield. Even still, Vyman enjoyed their company. He had always felt more comfortable in the company of the older generations. Yet, they were nowhere to be seen.

He had grown up around older siblings and his parents, his father, and his father's three wives. Vyman was completely used to spending most of his time around people older than him, in some cases twice or three times his age. He loved listening to them, and learning from their experience.

In part, he did not think he would be nearly as comfortable living here, mostly by himself, were it not for his upbringing in such a large family and his entourage of advisors and teachers. He enjoyed his independence, naturally, but needed his network to rely upon for guidance. And to know that getting relief was never an issue. Like all members of his family, Vyman displayed an abnormally high sex drive, though perhaps not unusual for someone his age.

When typical youth his age were seeking higher education, learning a skilled trade, or enlisting in the military, Vyman was being taught by the women in his family how to use his absurdly large penis, while also being prepared for a life in politics and among nobility.

Scowling at the irregularity of the situation, he shrugged off his soaked boots and jacket, and threw his hat off to the side. It did not land on the rack. Soon he was sitting on the floor and peeling off his drenched slacks. After a moment, amidst a puddle of water, he heard the sounds of steps descending the great winding stair case at the north end of the reception hall.

Prince Vyman stared up and peered in the dimly lit stairs. After a moment he realized that it was Hurshly, his aged manservant.

'My lord,' the old man announced in a tone rife with surprise, 'why... you're soaking wet.'

'Ah,' Vyman sighed, 'so that's what all this is. Thank you, Hurshly. What would I do without you?'

The old butler descended the steps, rolled his eyes dramatically and picked up his young lord's hat. 'You have a visitor, my lord.'

Vyman eyed the ceiling. 'Yes, I saw the carriage. Who is it?'

Hurshly cleared his throat. 'Your aunt Morrigan is waiting upstairs in the study.'

'Grandmother is here?!' Vyman cheered and leaped to his feet, slipping comically. Like a wet dog, water went spraying everywhere, and the teenager almost tripped over himself getting up.

'Careful, young master,' the old man stumbled. He had been in Vyman's service since the prince had been born and was used to seeing him in such states. The teenager had a knack for getting in such predicaments. 'She has only just arrived... and can wait for you to prepare yourself to be received. Why don't we dry you off first and get you into some proper dress.'

'Receive her? It's grandmother, Hurshly. Why, she's seen me soaking wet dozens of times.' Vyman smiled, thinking to himself, just as I've seen her. I can't believe she is here... now! Oh, what fun this is! 'I wonder why she is here. What did she say upon her arrival?' Vyman was still slipping around the floor and making for the stairs.

Hurshly cleared his throat and opened both palms to his master. 'She was naturally quite brisk,' the old butler said as he tried to avoid the spreading water all over the floor. 'She said she is bound south, for a voyage to Trevilan, in two days.'

'Hmm,' Vyman gripped the rail, 'a summons perhaps? I wonder if father is up to something else...'

'I do not know, my lord. She was very scant with such information. You know how she is.'

'Typical. Well I must see her at once. I imagine she will want a report on what I've been up to here in this ghastly place. Please cancel my tutoring sessions this afternoon. And... hmmm... any other meetings I have tomorrow.'

'My lord?' Hurshly said, stopping Vyman from ascending the stairs, 'is that wise? You are scheduled to meet with... her highness, the queen... tomorrow afternoon, remember?'

Prince Vyman scoffed and recalled the appointment. It had taken weeks to get an answer to his attempts at an audience with the queen, which had ultimately been a rejection.

Vyman thought little of it, as he knew how difficult it must be to have such an audience. It was said the queen was a complete recluse now, depending on her advisors to see to the daily needs of her subjects. Until, randomly, three days ago; he had received a letter summoning him to the Queen's private court. It was to be a review of his role as ambassador and work so far, but not an official reception. The queen alone was going to receive him. He still didn't know what to make of it.

But with grandmother here, Vyman suddenly thought... The timing couldn't have been worse, as he would much prefer spend all of his free time with her, duties be damned. Grandmother Morrigan was here, in the manor, just upstairs! Vyman knew he was suddenly going to be... quite occupied for the next couple of days. At least until she left for the coast. Maybe he could ride with her? See her away? That carriage looked like it could easily handle the two of them...

But if he knew his grandmother, she would never allow him to cancel such an important meeting. She was no doubt going to impress upon him some great piece of information which he would have to bear in mind when speaking with the queen, that this meeting would surely pave the way for both his primary and secondary objectives here in Risuk. It was all too much for Vyman to juggle around in his mind at the moment. He knew what was really coming. He felt his pants tighten. Soon he was going to be alone with his bombshell of a grandmother and it would be just the two of them for as long as they wanted. As long as they needed.

'Yes,' Vyman shook his head and sighed, 'yes, I recall now. Thank you, Hurshly. Don't cancel the meeting. I'll let grandmother know of the appointment, I'm sure she will understand.'

'Very wise, my lord,' the butler nodded as he began to mop up the mess.

***

Less than five minutes later, Vyman was knocking on the study's door. He could hear the fireplace in the room but little else. He wore only a loose white shirt, still slightly damp, and ankle length black breeches, but no shoes or socks. The pants were soaked and tight against his legs and crotch. He knew they wouldn't be on for long.

'Enter,' said the voice from within.

The prince gave a big exhale and turned the gilded knob. Inside the room, he observed the blessedly roaring fireplace on the opposite end of the room, which framed the ornately decorated chamber in a bright orange-red glow. The room was quite inviting. Bookshelves lined the wooden walls and comfortable leather armchairs were scattered around for long reading sessions.

Besides the pelting rain against the windows, all he could hear was the roar of the hearth. Walking in, he quickly spotted her. There, sitting close to the blaze in a high-backed chair, was his Great-Aunt Morrigan, whom most of the Velcin children affectionately referred to as grandmother.