by Kami Bryant
“I love you so much. There has to be a way for us to be together.”
“When I am queen,” said Em. “I will take you as my consort and we will always be together.”
“The Queen’s Consort,” chuckled Beau.
“The Queen’s Consort, Mr. Beauregard Bartholomew Kitchingham,” said Em.
“Her Royal Majesty, Emberlyn Miriam Julia Chittenden, Queen of Mirovia,” answered Beau. And with wide grins, wrapped in each other’s arms, they dreamed sweet dreams of their future together. The two lay down in the soft patch of flowers when they heard the horses squeal with alarm.
Beau jumped up with a, “What is it, Onyx?” The stallion screamed and turned tail and with Buttermint closely behind him began to run away. “No!” said Beau as he ran after the horses. He grabbed the horses’ reins and struggled with them as they bucked and kicked at him “Woaahhhhh!” he shouted.
“Beau?!” screamed Emberlyn. Along the path stood a thin, mangy wolf frothing at the mouth.
“Em!” shouted Beau and he pulled a proto plasmablaster from his boot, let go of the terrified horses and ran back to his princess. He was running so fast, and not looking where he was going closely enough, that he stumbled and fell flat forward. The plasmablaster bounced out of his hand. “Ow!” said Beau and when he started to pull himself up from the ground, he found himself staring into the glaring yellow eyes of the mad wolf. Shit! he thought to himself. The wolf’s fangs dripped with saliva and foam. Just as the wolf was about to pounce, there was a blast from a weapon and the animal fell to its side. Beau, with his arms wrapped protectively around his head looked over and saw Emberlyn holding his plasmablaster aimed at the wolf.
“Holy shit!” said Em.
“Wow! Amazing shot Em! Thanks for saving me!” and he rushed over to his princess, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“We need to catch the horses,” she said, giving Beau back his weapon.
“Right,” he said and took off running.
After saying goodbye to Beau, Onyx and Buttermint at the stables, Em raced through the castle gates. The guards standing at their station wore the uniform of Mirovia. Black leather from ankle to chin with two rows of shiny gold buttons down the chest, gold epaulettes and a gold chain looped from shoulder to shoulder. The band on their black top hats was a matching gold chain. Both guards stood at attention as the young princess raced past them. The guards held their plasma protorifles resting on their shoulders.
Em ran past the guards and down the hall. The marble floor was freshly waxed and Em was running so fast, that she slid across the floor, fell and landed at Queen Reiyna’s feet. The queen looked down from her throne at her willful daughter. Mormorant stood at the queen’s shoulder and gave a very pronounced; disapproving snort as he looked at the princess sprawled on the floor.
“Emberlyn,” said Queen Reiyna with suppressed mirth.
“Mother,” answered Em as she gathered herself off the floor and dipped into a deep curtsy.
“And where have you been?” grunted the Vizier. The queen glared at him over her shoulder and Em stomped an angry, petulant stomp of her foot.
“Riding,” answered the bratty-toned Em.
“Go get cleaned up,” ordered the queen with an arched brow. “We are hosting a courtly dinner with our guests from Stairanth momentarily.”
“Prince Phillip Humphrey Cogwright and King Augustus Phillip Cogwright will be here soon and you are off gallivanting with peasants and wallowing around on the floor,” grouched Mormorant. “And you smell like a horse.”
“Enough, my dear Vizier,” hissed the queen. “Go on,” said Reiyna to her daughter. Emberlyn gave another elegant curtsy and quickly ran to the spiraling marble staircase to the left of the queen.
“Wallowing with peasants, meh meh meh,” said Em under her breath as she walked the halls to her chambers. “I don’t answer to you, my dear Vizier,” huffed Em.
Em’s room was full of opulence, luxury and gold. Her large bed made up with a white silk bedspread. The headboard made of twisty gold that formed designs of leaves and vines. Her matching white silk fainting couch stood at the foot of her bed on golden feet. The marble floor brown with a thick white and gold embroidered rug that the bed sat on. Golden white drapes decorated the beige wall behind the bed’s headboard. An enormous gold and crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. All the furniture: wardrobe, vanity and night stand were matching white and gold. A gold encrusted mirror filled the rest of the wall beside the bed. Miss Iris Amelia Smithy, Em’s attendant waited for the princess and fell into a deep curtsy as Em flew into the room. Iris was only three and ten, a couple years younger than Em. The young girl with bright orange hair and freckles across her pert nose wore a long sleeve beige blouse, a cream-colored corset with maroon stripes down her torso that matched the maroon color of her skirt. Her bright orange hair fell down her shoulders in tight ringlets.
“I have already drawn you a bath, Your Highness,” said Iris. “And I thought your royal blue and black gown, the one decorated with vines, would be perfect for tonight.”
“Sure, whatever,” said Em.
“I hear that Prince Phillip will be here,” giggled Iris. Em huffed, fell with a thump to her fainting couch and worked at pulling off her boots. “Of course, you don’t care. How is Mr. Beauregard?” giggled Iris as she hurried to Em’s side and helped the struggling princess.
“As sexy as ever,” answered Em with her own girly giggle. “I told him when I am queen, I am going to make him my consort,” smiled Em dreamily.
Iris squealed and said, “It is just so romantic,” with a sigh, and a dramatic placement of the back of her hand to her brow.
“We kissed and held each other, and I could feel his member against my leg,” whispered Em.
Iris squealed loudly and asked, “then what happened? Did you touch it?”
“No, I told him to stop and he composed himself.”
“Did you want to?” whispered Iris.
“Yes, I did,” Em whispered back.
“What do you think it is like?”
“I don’t know but I can’t wait to find out,” and with that the gossiping girls squealed again and kicked their feet up in the air.
Iris’ blush caused her freckles to pop out even more across her cheeks. Iris helped Em out of her corset and trailed behind her as the princess went through the door of the en suite and to her gold claw foot bath. “I hear that the Vizier is very disapproving of your relationship with Mr. Beauregard,” giggled Iris.
“Fuck him,” growled Em causing Iris to gasp loudly at the princess’ language. “I don’t care what he thinks.” The shocked Iris continued to undo the princess’ plaited hair as Em sank in to the deep tub soaking in the hot flower-scented water. “I love Beau and he loves me and we will be together forever, and there’s nothing that the Vizier can do about it.”
CHAPTER TWO
Beau was just finishing his chores in the stables and settling down for the night when he heard the hover ship. He had mucked out Buttermint and Onyx’s stalls, brushed down both horses and had fed them their oats. He was sitting in a pile of hay fantasizing about Emberlyn. He was imagining her sexy damp body underneath his own. Her breath panting, calling out his name, her breasts heaving with her excitement. His hand was reaching down to his crotch when he heard the loud hum of the airship alighting on the grounds of the castle. Beau jumped up and ran out the stable door.
It was a luxury airship that was coming in for a landing, as the automatons rushed around grabbing the ropes and tying the ship down. The airship a bullet shaped copper-colored zeppelin with a silver gondola, where the royals sat, dangling below. At the stern, the fins shone bright silver as did the large spinning propellers at the top. Once the airship was completely tied down and the propellers stopped spinning, the round aperture opened in the silver pod and the visiting royals stepped out. Prince Phillip was the first to exit. The black-haired dandy wearing button fly grey trousers. His perfect tightly c
urled ringlets and the shine of his black hair pointing to the amount of vanity that he possessed. The gloves he wore, a softer grey with rabbit fur lining the cuffs. He also wore a cranberry vest over a crisp starched white blouse with a lot of lace festooning around his tightly knotted grey cravat. In his right hand he held a polished walnut cane with a shiny brass knob on top. Atop his head was an artfully placed grey top hat with brass goggles around the base. His dark brown coat with its high and sharp shoulder pads completed the dandy’s ensemble.
Then King Augustus exited behind his son. The king’s hair a long shiny white, his long mustache and beard impeccably groomed and waxed. He held a brass pipe clutched tightly between his teeth, a halo of some sweet-smelling smoke flowing behind him. Whatever he was smoking was strong, since Beau caught a whiff of it from where he stood. He wore loose linen white pants, dark brown boots and a navy-blue coat with enormous gold epaulettes and shiny gold buttons. The elbows of his coat had golden pads that matched the gold tips of his brown knee-high boots and his gold vest. His cravat was a sky blue, lighter a blue than his jacket. A trio of automatons followed the royals out of the silver gondola.
The human-shaped automatons shone in the setting sun in order of rank. The lowest ranked a brass color, then the silver, and finally the last a mix of silver and blue. All three had the body shape of a man and were clothed in black gentlemanly suits with red piping. They also wore black bowler hats on their shiny metal heads. From a slight opening in the copper automaton’s jacket Beau could just make out the blue glow of the machine’s power source.
Prince Phillip Humphrey Cogwright twirled his cane and pranced after the Mirovian guards, his white-haired father following him and the three automatons bringing up the rear of the group.
Beau stood watching the Stairanth royals angrily. He wasn’t going to let that dandy prince get near his Em without a fight.
Later that night when the castle grounds had quieted down, Beau quietly snuck up on a sleepy and distracted guard. The gate abandoned except for the one sleepy guard. Beau quietly crouched down and wrapped his muscular arm around the man’s neck, squeezing tightly as the man struggled and finally quieted. He gently laid the unconscious man on the stone path. The cocoa-skinned man was about half a head shorter than Beau, but he was still the tallest of the castle guards and the only guard at the castle gate that evening. Beau’s 6’4” frame was a height rarely seen in Mirovia. Beau looked around to see if anyone had heard the brief scuffle, but no one seemed to be around. Beau then stripped the man’s black coat off his back. The coat was barely long enough to completely cover Beau’s arms, but he decided that it didn’t look too ridiculous. Beau pulled off the guard’s elegant black leather boots and compared them to the bottom of his foot to see if they looked to be the right size. He then slipped his stockinged feet into them. They were a little snug, pinching his toes. Beau completed the uniformed look with the guard’s top hat and protorifle. Beau swung the rifle to his shoulder and then as if he knew exactly what he was doing, walked down the corridor to the ballroom where he could hear the dinner in full swing.
On the long dinner table sat a feast that Beau had only ever imagined. Born a poor stable boy, he was lucky to supplement his meal with occasional venison but mostly his diet consisted of milk, bread and cheese. More and more meals came out of the kitchens carried by the castle automatons. A roasted pheasant was presented to each person. There were huge troughs of fresh fruit and the automatons ran around making sure that everyone’s goblet was filled with wine. Beau, with a sigh, took a station against the wall and tried not to drool on himself as he watched the visiting Stairanth royals eating their dinner and speaking to Em and the queen.
Prince Phillip was leaning way too close to Em for Beau’s liking. Em wore a deep royal blue gown with embroidered black designs and a pink diamond, flowered tiara. The gown fit tightly around Em’s waist and it looked like she was wearing an under corset. The dress spread out widely from her hips as Em perched on her chair, her lovely cleavage on display. Prince Phillip leaned closer to Em. Beau could see that the prince’s intent was to get a closer look at Em’s breasts. Emberlyn leaned away from the lusty visiting prince and pretended to laugh at Prince Phillip’s joke, tossing her head high. Beau imagined different ways to kill the visiting prince. It might be fun to drag his body over the table by his hair and then choke him so that he died slowly, his lips turning purple and his heels beating rhythmically against the floor. Or I could shoot him from here with the protorifle, but that would be too quick a death.
Em’s eyes rolled in exasperation and then her gaze turned away from Prince Philip to alight on Beau’s form standing in the doorway, wearing his stolen guard’s uniform. Her eyes grew huge with her astonishment. She bent around the visiting prince and spoke to her mother around the back of Prince Philip’s chair. Once their conversation ceased and Queen Reiyna had turned back to the white-haired king, Em stood up from her chair. Beau watched as the drunken Prince Phillip reached out for Em’s satin, navy-blue skirts but Em expertly side stepped him and continued to walk away to where Beau stood. Beau backed out of the doorway and took a few steps away from the ballroom. There was a nearby shallow alcove and that is where Beau stood when Em reached him.
Her eyes flashed with her anger as she asked, “What do you think you are doing?”
“Hey Em, how’s it going?” asked Beau with a flirtatious grin.
“You are going to get yourself killed.”
“I wanted to get a closer look. I saw when they arrived, and I didn’t like the look of that flamboyant prince.”
“Where did you get that uniform?” whispered Em.
“Stole it off an unconscious guard outside,” he whispered back.
“And how did he come to be unconscious?” asked Em, fighting back a grin.
“It could have been because of my choking him out.”
“Oh MY GOD!” screeched Em and then they both startled as they heard a refined voice calling out from behind them.
“Is everything okay here, my dear Emberlyn?”
Em jolted away from Beau and answered Prince Phillip. “Yes. Everything is fine here. I was just talking to this guard. I will be back shortly.”
“Allow me to escort you back, my dear,” said Phillip gallantly presenting his arm to Em. The princess had no choice but to gently settle her hand on the prince’s forearm.
Beau frowned and watched her go. This idea was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. He then angrily stomped down the corridor, away from the ballroom. As he started to leave he heard a loud scream. Beau ran back to the ballroom and saw the group of royals and the automatons rushing toward the fallen queen.
Queen Reiyna lay sprawled on the floor, the goblet she had been drinking from, still clutched in her hand, the red wine pooling by her head. Emberlyn was shaking her mother’s shoulders and as Beau moved closer, he could see that Queen Reiyna’s lips were turning an unhealthy looking black color.
“Move BACK!” shouted Mormorant. “Give her some air.”
“Is she choking? Mother, can you hear me?!” howled the hysterical Em.
Beau rushed over and stood directly behind Em. He lightly put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Em turned to him, and he could see the tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes wide with fear. Queen Reiyna’s body seized violently and Em screeched with terror. Mormorant moved back the visiting Stairanth royals and tried to loosen the queen’s corset. The castle automatons gently reached under the queen’s unconscious body and lifted her off the floor.
“Take her to her chambers! Call the medical automaton immediately. NO ONE LEAVES THIS ROOM!” commanded Mormorant. The Vizier grabbed the queen’s fallen goblet and sniffed it. “It is as I suspected! The queen has been poisoned!”
“What?” asked the white-haired King Augustus of Stairanth. “Are you suggesting that we poisoned the queen?”
“That is ridiculous,” huffed Prince Phillip.
“Which automaton filled this g
oblet?” shouted Mormorant. A brass automaton moved forward. “Did you check this goblet before you served it to the queen?”
“Of course, I did,” hissed the mechanical.
“And was there anything other than wine in this goblet?”
“No, my Lord Vizier.”
“Show me your memory print out,” commanded Mormorant.
“Of course,” said the mechanical as a sheet of paper spit out of the automaton’s torso.
Mormorant closely examined the print out. “Everything seems to be in order, which means someone tampered with her goblet after the automaton served it. So, anyone in this room could be the culprit!” Mormorant’s dark eyes alighted on Beau who still stood behind Em. She had risen from the floor and was leaning her body against Beau. He had loosely wrapped his arms around his princess’ waist. “Wait a minute,” said Mormorant with a tiny grin. “You aren’t a guard. Seize him!”
“What?” asked Em.
“Is he not your stable master in disguise? Where did you steal that uniform?” And at that exact moment the stripped-down dazed guard walked into the ballroom.
“Shit,” said Beau as the guards rushed him and yanked his wrists behind his back.
“Wait,” protested Emberlyn.
“Go to your mother,” commanded the Vizier. “She needs you. I will take care of this.”
The sobbing princess obediently walked away from Beau and out of the ballroom.
“Em,” sighed Beau piteously.
CHAPTER THREE
Emberlyn held her mother’s hand as the queen lay motionless on her huge brass bed, wrapped in silk sheets and furs; her head propped up with large velvet pillows. The queen’s lips black, her skin waxy white, her shallow breaths whistling out of her mouth. Large tears slid down Em’s cheeks, as she examined the unconscious queen for a sign of recovery.