Page 10 of The King's Bodyguard
Hugh’s tail rose and fluffed, but there was only mock rage on his face.
“I-I am flabbergasted, Your Majesty! To taunt me so! It must be Corrin’s bad influence.”
I blushed and ignored his teasing.
“Oh, no, no,” sighed Alan. “Hugh does not have issues with fertility. The exact opposite, I would say. If I hear rumors correctly, many a mama has kept the apothecaries quite busy with, er, anti-fertility serums. To close the womb and so forth.”
Hugh looked chagrined but also a bit proud. I snickered.
“There are ladies,” Alan continued, “who have come to me with the vexing problem of fertility issues. Who they are, I cannot say—“
“Lady Felham? The Duchess of Orthon?” Hugh guessed. Probably accurately.
“But they—“ Alan struggled to ignore Hugh. “They have come to me for aid. The matter of stirring the womb is one thing, the matter of creating a whole new one is entirely another thing.”
“Fascinating,” Gareth mused. “It could change many a molly’s life.”
“Indeed. Or a tom’s.”
Hugh choked on his wine again.
“Dammit, Alan! Are you trying to kill me?”
“No?” Alan said innocently.
“Toms cannot bear children!” Hugh hissed.
“Correction. They could not. With my Elixir of Divine Fertility, I may perhaps be able to create a womb even within a male!”
Alan looked quite happy with himself. I nodded slowly. The idea of having children was as far from my mind as possible, but I could agree with him. There were matters of succession. When a tom loved another, but must keep the estate within the family, Alan’s elixir could solve major issues of inheritance. Not to mention the mollies who would finally be blessed with safe births after struggling to have a little one of their own.
“I wish you luck in your endeavors, Alan,” I said gravely.
Hugh shook his head. “Don’t encourage him, Landis.”
“It is fascinating, though,” Gareth said thoughtfully.
“I will be administering the elixir to a client of mine. Highly experimental but the documents were signed. And, perhaps, one day, I shall find a willing tom.”
“Good luck with that!” Hugh said.
After that, the conversation meandered a little before dwindling to a close. Gareth wished Alan good fortune, bade me another good evening, and strolled off. Hugh disappeared into the crowd of dancers, looking for a partner. Alan mumbled a good evening and fled to another quiet corner of the room.
So I am on my own. Yet again, I sighed. I struggled to keep my dismay hidden. It wasn’t a good idea to look lost or bored at an important event such as this. For one thing, Lord Morne and his wife were never far off. They would be the first to make a snide comment if they thought I wasn’t enjoying myself or making an effort. Besides them, there were the fussy old ladies and mamas who were quite devoted to my happiness and were ever hopeful that I would choose one of their darling progenies as my wife.
Of course, all of that is more or less a non-issue now, I thought gloomily.I am a prisoner of my fate. Lord Elthorne’s public announcement last week has made the wedding official. As the future husband of Princess Erellia, I am now freed from the murky waters of courtship in the usual sense.
Upon becoming king, I had found myself swamped with invitations to balls, galas, extravaganzas, and all manner of diversions. My advisors became my de facto stewards. Besides deciding which events I would attend, they would arrange the dance cards as well.
Usually, I would be as limp as a rag after these events. This time, however, I had been allowed some rest periods. After dancing two waltzes, two folk dances, and one line dance, I was finally able to rest my heels and discreetly massage my toes.
Alright. I must admit the last was out of the question, but a tom could hope. After all, I had manfully tackled each of my dances with aplomb, no matter how often my toes had been crushed. I felt that I was owed a bit of a rest after those heroic acts.
Hmmm...I sighed.If I had to dance, I would prefer more interesting partners.My thoughts instantly strayed to Corrin. Dancing wouldn’t be so terrible if Corrin was holding me in his arms.Does he dance, though?
There was no time to daydream about Corrin, however. If I didn’t find a conversation partner soon, I was sure to be swallowed up by any gaggle of young catkin lordlings and ladies who floated around the room in large packs. There were some young lords and ladies who could hold a conversation with their king, but quite a few would simply devolve into open mouths, awkward stares, and even more stilted discussions on the weather, the roads, and the pastries.
No. It was best that I kept moving. With that in mind, I slowly ambled over to a pastry table, accepted compliments on my deep blue suit, shuffled a few pastries onto a dainty porcelain plate, and hunted down a glass of wine. Bearing my hard-won reward off, I managed to find a nook where I could sit and rest my toes and take my ease in relative peace.
