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Elena meets Ol’ Harry learns about frontier

Erik stood at the window of the Royal Bedchambers, gazing out into the night and watching the nondescript carriage heading down a dimly lit path under the cover of darkness. They had hurriedly prepared the contents Elena would need, although her escort got off to a much later start since the Queen had insisted on taking all of her scented oils, lotions, and additional beauty products. Walter, along with 3 of the most trusted guards had gone with her; the goal being to call the least amount of attention to the group as possible and keep it small.

“This is a mistake. I shouldn’t be letting her go,” he whispered, gripping the windowsill as he watched the horse-pulled caravan lumber down the road, taking his wife further from him. ‘What king can’t protect his queen in his own palace?’ he thought, questioning every step to lead him to this dreary, sullen night. Erik was beyond frustrated with himself, but there was nothing the 28 year old King could do now, and he wondered just what her life would be like these next couple of weeks. Elena wasn’t exactly the type of woman that would agree to just sit around cooped up in some strangers house, and that worried him. He could get her out of harms way, but he just wasn’t sure if he could protect her from herself. Erik knew better than to try and tell her what to do, however, and he sighed as he watched the silhouette of his wife’s carriage slip into the darkness and out of his life temporarily. The King vowed to figure out the ‘Rat’ problem as soon as humanly possible as he turned and walked toward his bed, realizing that he would be sleeping alone for the first time in nearly 5 years.


Elena swallowed into a perfectly flawless, dry taut throat as the tendons of her neck flared their subtle beauty, watching as the outline of the Castle she had been raised in grew smaller and smaller as the click-clacking of the horses’ hooves separated her from the King with every step. She felt a pang of regret for not treating Erik better in their last few hours together, although she still wished she had been invited to the initial meeting with his advisors. Deep down she knew that her husband’s personality had, in part, been sculpted by an usual environment growing up. As sole and only heir to the Kingdom, he had been raised by a generation much older than him, often secluded from other boys, which caused him to be bereft of social skills and decisiveness that came with normal, everyday interaction. This lack of development was sometimes masked by his intelligence and physical skill sets, and so went unchecked in the early years of childhood. Such talents were products of endless studies and training, so he was able to still hold conversations on a myriad of subject matter as well as take part in the usual physical male activities typical of palace living.

Elena wondered if she could have helped her husband out a little bit more in the areas of negotiation, reading people, and other social skills, rather than always just suggesting what he should and shouldn’t do, perhaps adding to the problem. These mixed feelings seemed to tug at her and she promised herself she’d work on creating more of a mutual union between them where he could strengthen his weaknesses when she returned. As she looked on, Synia Castle slowly evaporated into the night’s air, the voluptuous Queen finally turning from the rear-view vantage point to focus on the adventure in front of her.

The journey took two and a half days with Elena mainly keeping to herself in the concealed carriage while the guards talked amongst themselves, stealing glances every now and then at the Queen’s hefty bust that would jiggle and bounce with each rut they hit along the way. A couple of times when they stopped for breaks, she overheard them snickering to themselves about how much they’d kill for her to be one of their ‘wives,’ but she did her best to ignore them. ‘They’re uneducated hired muscle, and muscle is expendable,’ she told herself. Even Walter was acting fairly distant with her.

Many of the places they passed by she hardly recognized, realizing just how little of her own Kingdom she had actually seen. Most of the events of Synia occurred in a few larger towns, and so there wasn’t much need for the members of nobility to travel to the far away villages. The exotic and stunningly gorgeous 23 year old understood then just how lacking her knowledge was of where she was going – not sure of what to expect from the people or even the look of the village. She had been informed that they were headed to Edge Landing, a small village set against the backdrop of a large lake at the base of a mountain. The few questions she did ask about it were met with a “You’ll see when we get there Your Highness.” It felt like she was more of a prisoner than the actual Queen, and her mood had visibly soured by the time she heard Walter announce that they had arrived.

Elena peered out the slit of the caravan, taking in the sight of the village. They had passed by a few houses that were few and far between, separated by quite a bit of land. A part of her wondered what it would be like to have such privacy and not a hundred people around every single day tending to the most inconsequential minutia. Ahead of the them, further on down the road she could see half of the small village where a few stores, an inn, a church, and a couple other buildings dotted the main road through town. Beyond it was the large lake which surprised her with it’s sheer size. A couple of smaller fishing boats and what looked like a sail boat completed the landscape.

As they passed by another house, Elena wasn’t prepared for what met her eyes. “Ohh!” she heard herself gasp in shock as she had to do a double-take. Perhaps a 100 feet away on the porch of the nearest house was a man and woman in a clear state of passion. The woman was bent over the wooden railing as a man behind her was plowing her from behind, rutting like wild animals without a concern for privacy. Although they weren’t very close, it was still obvious what was taken place as the woman’s dress was bunched up around her waist and her body bucking against the man behind her.

Walter chuckled loudly, “Not exactly palace living, is it Your Highness? Welcome to the countryside, my Queen,” he said, clearly enjoying her discomfort as she quickly drew the slit shut, her cheeks flushed. “Is that … normal?” she asked, hearing the other guards snicker a bit.

“Sure is. I’m sure you’ll get quite the education on village life in these parts,” he said sardonically, “things aren’t very civilized on the outskirts of the Kingdom. You’ll get used to it though. Ahh, here we are, left here,” he instructed the one guard who was steering the horses.

Elena tried to process this odd change in her assumptions of village life, and wondered what exactly Walter meant by ‘education.’ She assumed things would be more primitive here, but certainly not more crude. The prim and proper Queen couldn’t dream of ever having sex where someone else could see her. As they pulled up the path to the house, she realized it was the one right next to the neighbors who were screwing, though she was pleased to see that some trees mainly blocked the view between houses.

“All ashore,” Walter said, instructing the young Queen to finally get out, “I would have let you put a stop to that, but figured you didn’t want to blow your cover,” he said smirking at her. Elena realized right then that the first thing she would do when she got back to the castle was to tell Erik to think about firing his ‘trusted’ advisor. Walter clearly didn’t seem to be worried about her at the moment and instead was taking delight in her situation, which he had authored from the beginning. The guards stayed back at the carriage as he and Elena walked up to the house.

She was dressed in a borrowed peasant’s light green dress that swayed gently as she moved, the fabric falling all the way down to her ankles, revealing her generic beige sandals with each long legged stride. It was the type of dress that had a wide circular neckline that stretched to rest just over the top corner of each shoulder, showing off her smooth bare skin while still almost completely covering her plentiful breasts. In a fashion that was customary of the times, Elena had a thin beige sash that tied into a bow to her upper waist with the two ends of the sash hanging down from it. Naturally, the problem with the typical attire of such a villager was Elena’s incredible curves, and her fantastic bust looked even bigger given how the sash affixed to her thin waist, tugging the dress inward to make it evident just how large her succulent bosom was underneath. So too did the sash reveal the wide, child-bearing hips of the Queen, though the long flowing material mostly hid just how round and plump her ass was below the surface. Before they knocked, Walter turned to her with a tone of warning in his voice, 

”Perhaps I should have told you more on the way out here, but this experience is going to be … different than what you expected. Make no mistake though, Your Highness, the entire Kingdom is counting on you. So don’t blow this, ok? Old Harry knows what he’s doing and knows these parts better than anyone, so listen to what he says, even if you may not understand it. Got it? Wouldn’t want this to all be for nothing. And … try not to think like a Queen until you get back.”

She looked at him incredulously and hated the feeling that he was talking to her like some prissy child. “Watch your tone Walter,” she hissed, “I hope this will be the last time I have to remind you who you’re talking to,” she said, enjoying the subtle threat that may have indicated that he wouldn’t always be her husband’s lead council. “You can’t influence me as easily as Erik. I’m sure I can handle dealing with a few common folk. What’s more, if you even think that …” she stopped, as just then the door opened and they both turned to see Harry Jones.

Elena groaned inwardly as she saw her ‘husband’ for the first time, thinking that no one would believe a woman like her would marry such an old, pudgy geezer. ‘He has to be pushing 70,’ she thought to herself. Balding on top with grey hair on the sides, his gut seemed to be the a permanent storage system for many pints of ale, though the rest of his frame wasn’t quite so large. Fat lips, and lively yet beady little eyes were the defining features of his face. Well, that and the wart on the side of his nose. His smile was his only redeeming quality, though even it had a hint of seedy mischief to it, and Elena assumed it helped during his bartering sessions for his wares.

“Harry Jones,” Walter said, turning sideways as he opened his palm toward Elena, “May I have the pleasure of introducing you to her Majesty, Queen Elena.” She reached her hand out, bare feminine fingers pointing down, expecting the top of her hand to be kissed, but not even wanting to go through with that formality.

“Buaahhh hahaha,” Harry bellowed, as he stepped forward, his stocky build seeming to have some power behind it as he playfully slapped her hand away, “By golly I don’t shake hands with my wife, Queeny!” he roared, swallowing her up in an unexpected hug and breaking the touch barrier immediately for the taken-aback Queen, feeling her exquisite breasts press into his upper chest, just below his face, savoring how her enormous bust felt against him. He planted his chubby lips against her cheek, and she flushed immediately as he finally stepped back.

“Well, shiii-ittt, you weren’t kidding Walt,” he said, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “With tits like those, your darn-tootin’ she’d be spotted in the bigger towns for sure! Can’t hide those royal puppies for spit,” he said, staring at the Queen’s oversized melons.

Elena was beside herself, caught completely off guard by his behavior and attitude as she found herself flushing and trying to regain a sense of proper regal formality. Rather than scold him, she was distracted by something he said and she turned to Walter, “Wait, you told him about me Walt? When?” she asked suspiciously.

Before Walter could respond, Harry chimed in, “Got his courier letter yesterday afternoon, tis faster on those royal thoroughbreds of yours than the ‘ol wagon,” he said, pointing to the carriage. “Walt here knows I’d do anything for him and the King and Queen. He wrote that you and King Ethan needed help – an’ that you were a real looker. Daggumit, that young whippersnapper is truly a lucky boy, if I don’t say so myself,” he said, referring to her husband. “So o’course I said I’d help out and be your husband,” he remarked with that devilish grin, this time looking her up and down unabashedly. “Criminy! Where’s ‘me manners. It’s truly an honor to meet you, your Majesty,” he said, finally covering his tracks and addressing her properly.

“Thank you, even out here the throne should be respected,” she said, knowing it was a little bold of her to say, but wanting to get her point across that she wasn’t going to be talked to like some common wench, “Wouldn’t want to have to have the ‘whippersnapper’ of a King send more guards your way,” she added a bit haughtily but then flashed a sweet smile as she looked at him to soften the force of the comment. Harry and Walter exchanged looks and then Walter cleared his throat.

“Ah Harry, we’ll need to unload the Queen’s possessions before anyone walks by and gets suspicious,” he said, switching subjects.

“Righty Ho! Let me show you yer new home while the guards unload your things,” Harry said, turning and grabbing her hand, tugging her along and into the house while talking over his shoulder, “Did Walt tell you how things are in Edge Landing? Folks are mighty different here. You might be flabbergasted at first, what with all your mannerly Palace living, but you just follow ol’ Harry’s lead and you’ll be alright,” he said with one of his salesmen-esque smiles.

“Well I …umm … got a little bit of a taste from your neighbors,” she said softly, allowing herself to be led into the house by the old man and cursing herself for ever agreeing to this plan. She couldn’t possibly imagine spending a month with him and marveled at how the pudgy trader was already taking liberties with how he touched her and tugged her hand. ‘What is it about old guys that makes them think they can get away with anything?’ she thought to herself.

“Ahhh, saw a little hanky-panky from Louise and Logan, did ya?” he asked, referring to his neighbors. “Perfectly normal, perfectly normal. I swear they tucker themselves out daily on that porch of theirs. I’m sure you and King Ethan do the same though, right yer Highness?” he said glancing back to study her face.

Elena looked away, brushing her long brunette hair over her shoulder, embarrassed by not only the question, but the sad answer to it. The unfortunate reality was that middle-aged country folk were having much more passion in their lives than she was despite being married to a fairly fit 28 year old King. 

“I’d uhh, rather not discuss and reveal the intimate details of my relationship with my husband Mr. Jones,” she said formally, pausing to look into one of the rooms where she saw all manner of unique items along with some antique objects.

Harry winked at her, “You already have, Me’ Lady,” though he gave her a sort of remorseful look after as if to indicate he felt sorry for her situation, “And please, call me Harry or ol’ Harry even.” He showed her the good graces of changing the topic as he pointed to the room, “That’s just the overflow of my goods from my store in town,” the old trader explained, proud of being one of the few villagers to own a separate store. “I can show it to ya if you like, though not sure if yer willing to dare to venture into town. Yer more than welcome to just spend your time here,” he said, almost goading her on.

Elena was pleased to switch the topic of conversation away from her lackluster sex life to something more adventurous, and she sort of chuckled, her suspicions that the old man viewed her as an uppity Queen seemingly proving accurate. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I can more than hold my own,” she said, continuing to move through the house. The Queen noted, to her displeasure, that there was only one bedroom in the house, as what would have been the guest room was turned into a makeshift office. She put her hand on her chest as she studied the bed, trying to calm herself and wishing she had worked out more of these details before agreeing to this regretful ‘plan.’

“By golly did ya bring the whole Palace with you?” Harry suddenly asked, watching the guards bring in a couple massive chests with her belongings moving through the house to find a place to put them. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you try wearin’ any of yer fancy castle garb around town Your Highness,” he said, though added with a wry grin, “Though feel free to show ol’ Harry any skimpy nighttime attire you might have,” he added with a dirty smirk.

The big-titted Queen rolled her large light green eyes and decided now was as good of a time as any to set the record, and expectations, straight. “Listen … Harry,” she said, stepping towards him and holding up a finger and putting her other hand on her wide hip, “I think there’s something you need to understand: there will be NO funny business. No sex. Nothing physical whatsoever between us. I’m just here for as long as it takes until the castle is determined to be safe and we’re rid of those … annoying Rat informants,” she said firmly. She hated to be scolding the very man that was offering her his house and hospitality, but she had always found out that life was easier the sooner you set everyone’s expectations.

“Well tickle me Pink! Isn’t that just a bunch of horse-puckey,” he scoffed. “Ya mean to tell me that I open my home to you on a moment’s notice, cancel not one, but TWO lucrative trading trips, agree to take you as my wife and have to give up whorin’ in foreign towns and now you’re saying I ain’t even gonna get a feel of those big fun-bags?” he asked crudely. “What a doggone, unappreciative shame,” he said, turning away from her, though the corners of his fat lips turned up in a sneaky smile that she couldn’t see. For good measure he added, “And here Walt said you’d be more than a willing participant,” making it seem as if he was the one that had been duped by Walter. ‘Of course he did,’ Elena thought to herself, feeling instant guilt and realizing that she was only looking at things from her side up until that point.

“I .. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound that mean about this. Walter didn’t exactly explain to me what he told you. It’s just that – I’m married and I could never cheat on my husband. I hope you can understand,” she said, remaining solidly committed to her marriage despite the guilt as she thought ‘And especially not with an old geezer like you.’

Harry turned back to her, this time a frown covering his normally jovial face, “Well, have it yer way, BUT you can sure as shit bet that if you ain’t gonna act like my wife under my own roof, I’m not gonna act like your husband outside of it. Royal decree or not,” he said, leaving his comments open to interpretation.

“I wouldn’t expect you too,” the curvy Queen responded, almost laughing inwardly at the thought of her wanting him to ‘act’ like her husband in public, “I know how to handle myself.”

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