- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have a shifting work schedule, so My online times will be random.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Fantasy, scifi, futuristic modern, fantasy modern, Action/adventure, Mystery, Fan-based,
Greagor was still a bit stunned over the news that his Queen had claimed one of her own knights as husband, though as he thought about her other prospects he had to admit she could certainly do worse, much worse if half of what he had heard of Anton were true. Nicoli was a good man with a generous heart and made of steady character. A solid man, one who could not remain in the guard forever and once out his prospects were bleak without some form of intervention. Not that Greagor believed the whole thing had started from a case of pity. Nicoli had too much pride to put up with that. Rather Greagor was astonished the man had given into any feelings for the Queen at all. It was going to take some adjusting, but the more he thought about it the more he believed it might be a change for the better.
He tried to keep his thoughts focused on the matter at hand, but Captain Oswin caught him yawning, and as the Queen still needed to see what Dotty's friend, though Greagor knew the woman well enough to assume that the term lover would be more appropriate, had to say the meeting was dismissed for the time being.
Greagor, with Oswin's help, quickly found himself in the kitchen with a hot bowl of stew and a mug of mulled wine set before him.
"For security purposes," the captain was saying, "it is best to presume for now that Nicoli knows nothing about what we are actually doing. Let the Queen tell him what he needs to know. If he takes issue with that, well it's her concern, not ours."
Greagor nodded his understanding as he shoved practically an entire dinner roll into his mouth. The knight was famished and unconcerned with manners.
When Dotty appeared and began whispering in his ear Lampkin's grin was entirely genuine, and he kept it even when he realized her words were anything but honeyed wine.
"The Queen wants to speak with you." He didn't have to fake the shiver as her lips brushed his ear.
Glancing over to where Anton sat at his desk going over the most recent report from Leondeal, Lampkin slipped an arm around Dotty's waist and maneuvered them both slightly back into the doorway to the hall where his back would be just barely in the king's eye line.
"Now?" he murmured keeping his voice low and smooth, he knew what trick Dotty was playing what it was they were leading Anton to believe. With any luck the king would take the bate and Lampkin would have plenty of time to converse with those who could further his cause. He summoned up the memory of the previous night and all he and Dotty had done together as they worked out an arrangement that was pleasing to both of them, particularly what happened when he had kept his promise to keep the night focused on her pleasure, and his voice took on a decidedly husky tone as he continued the answer. "His Highness still had need of me, important matters of state –"
"Go, Lampkin," Anton called to them both, a decidedly annoyed sound to his voice. Whether it was for them or what he was currently working on Lampkin couldn't tell. "From the sound of it she's got you worked up and there'll be no getting anything useful out of you until it's out of your system."
Less than fifteen minutes later Lampkin found himself kneeling, in respect, at the young Queen's feet.
"If it pleases you to speak with me, so have I come."