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.
