A Prince's Pride

Disclaimer: The lyrics in this chapter are from the song "All That Matters" by Illenium. All rights are reserved to their rightful owners. The author of this story does not receive monetary compensation for their contribution to the website(s) on which it is published.

*Aaron*

Dirty. Used. Defiled. These are the things I feel after the woman has left me alone in the room. I’ve gone soft, but not before the deed was done. My head spins as I feel my extremities start to come to life. I still can’t sit up, but I’m slowly feeling stronger and stronger.

I try to organize the thoughts in my mind, try to remember what happened. The last thing I remember before waking up in this room was toasting Piper. She must have done something to me. This has to be her doing.

I hear a commotion outside and Oswald yelling my name.

“Here!” I yell as loud as I can, but it sounds like a whisper to me. I hear knocking from several doors down and try to force myself up, but I can’t move. The knocking grows closer and I hear Oswald shouting for me.

“Here!” I yell, a little louder.

“He’s in here!” exclaims Exavier, right outside the door. “Your Majesty? Are you okay?”

“Come…in!” I shout with difficulty.

The door bursts open and Exavier stands there. He takes one look at me and waves to someone down the hall. A moment later, I see who it is when Oswald comes in and, upon seeing me naked on the bed, hurries in behind Exavier and shuts the door.

"Your Majesty," says Oswald, looking at me horror-struck. "What happened?"

“Help me!” I say angrily. They rush forward and Exavier bends, picking up my underwear. Together, he and Oswald negotiate my clothes onto me and help me sit up against the wall. I can feel my hands, but I can’t lift my arms.

“What happened?” repeats Oswald.

“Piper Dylan,” I say as I move my wrists, trying to force my arms to move. “She drugged me with something. I woke up in here and…” I trail off and Oswald and Exavier look at each other.

“What is it?” asks Exavier.

“A woman came in and she…she…” I don’t finish, but I can see by their faces they catch my meaning.

“What should we do?” Exavier asks Oswald. I can tell he’s very drunk. Oddly, I’m completely sober. “Carry him back up to the palace?”

“No!” I say, able to bend my elbows and lift my forearms now. “Just give me time. I don’t want anyone to know what’s wrong. How long have I been in here?”

“I’m not sure, Your Majesty,” says Oswald. “I saw you stumble over to the bar about half an hour ago. When I went looking for you again, the barmaid said you’d gone to the bathroom and was helped by a friend. I thought Cromwell was with you l until I found him by the stage talking to one of the musicians.”

Thirty minutes? Surely I wouldn’t have sobered up in just thirty minutes. Not with how much I drank.

Now able to move my torso, I sit up straighter and look at them. 

“Where is Piper?” I demand.

“I haven’t seen the witch,” says Oswald.

“Don’t call her that. This wasn’t magic. She drugged me.”

“I don’t get it,” says Exavier. “Why would she have done this?”

“We should get you up to the palace, straight away,” says Oswald. “Madam Offrand can tell us what she drugged you with.”

It takes nearly thirty more minutes before I’m able to stand on my own and fifteen more before I can walk properly.

“You seem steady on your feet,” says Exavier, apparently impressed, as we walk out of the inn.

“I’m not drunk anymore. Whatever she drugged me with must have overpowered the alcohol.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” says Oswald. He and the rest of the Crown Guards, including Delgara, are huddled around me closer than when we went down to the city.

When we get up to the palace, we head straight for the infirmary on the third floor. Zelda is there, mixing something in a flask that’s steaming on a burner. I tell her what happened and her face shows nothing but shock and horror.

“I’ll need a urine sample, of course,” she says, holding out a glass jar to me, “straight away.”

I take it behind a screen used for giving people privacy while they change and nearly fill the jar to the brim.

“Well, that will certainly be enough,” says Zelda, looking at the clear urine. 

She goes to work, mixing several chemicals together in several different glasses, then lines them up along a table. She pours a small amount of my urine into each.

The first one, which was clear when she started, turns yellow. The second, which started at yellow, does not change. The third stays blue. The fourth changes from red to black. The fifth stays clear.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” says Zelda sadly. “While I can detect alcohol in your urine, I can’t find anything else.”

“Is it possible he was drugged with something you’ve never heard of?” asks Exavier.

“It is possible, but not probable,” says Zelda. “I’ve been a physician for nearly forty years. And, most strangely, I can’t think of anything that would have cured his drunkenness. At least, not something…natural.”

“You’re suspecting witchcraft?” asks Oswald.

“Oh, Gods, that bitch is a witch,” says Exavier, then starts laughing at his rhyme.

“I think you should go to bed, Cromwell,” says Oswald disapprovingly. “You are to start your new duty guarding the Prince tomorrow, after all.”

“Right,” says Exavier, now looking serious. “Off to bed with me, then. I’m sorry, Aaron, that your bachelor party…” he trails off, opens his mouth as if to speak again, shakes his head, then leaves the room.

“There is no such thing as magic, Zelda,” I say to her once the door is shut. “I refuse to believe it. She must have used a drug to do this. Where is Milo? I must see him at once.”

“He and the Princess are in the throne room, but—” 

I don’t let her finish before I sweep from the infirmary. I have to tell Milo right away. He has to know what happened.

When I approach the throne room, I hear something I’ve only heard once before. Milo is singing. I peer around the door and see Riley sitting on our mother’s throne, Milo standing on the dais before her. His words echo around the empty hall, adding to the splendid beauty of his voice.

If I could crawl in the mind

And give any advice to my younger self

Find something you can hold on to

Find someone who'll be there for you

'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

Find somewhere you can come home to

Find someone that'll die for you

'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

It's love, love, love

'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

I can’t help but stand and watch him sing for my sister. He’s only ever sang for me once. He thinks his voice is annoying, but I can tell Riley thinks the same as me as she wipes a tear from her eye.

“That was beautiful!” she says, sounding very drunk.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” says Milo with a bow, his words slurred. He stumbles a little on his bow and almost falls over, but catches himself. 

“Aaron!” shouts Riley happily, able to see me when Milo bends over. He stands and turns to me, looking embarrassed.

I can’t tell him when he’s like this. It’ll have to wait until morning.

“You two seem to be having fun,” I say, walking toward him. He throws his arms around me and smiles up at me.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he says, his eyes bleary. “You’re not drunk? What kind of bash-elor party is it if you don’t get drunk?”

“It wasn’t very fun, to tell you the truth. I’ll tell you about it later.”

He raises himself higher on his feet to whisper in my ear. “Let’s go to the bedroom and I’ll show you a better time.”

“I can’t do that to you while you’re drunk,” I whisper back, although his state is only half the reason. I don’t want him to touch me until I’ve scrubbed Olivia Rendara off my skin.

That was her name! The woman in the room of the inn. Olivia Rendara was a noblewoman I pretended to date when I was seventeen before I’d met Milo. She tried to get me to sleep with her several times. 

“Why don’t you go to bed and I’ll tell you about it in the morning,” I suggest. 

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy,” says Riley, stumbling over to us. She hooks her arm in Milo's. “Milo, let’s go for a stroll through the gardens. Come along, Kilter,” she adds to her sworn protector. The three of them leave me in the throne room, but Milo smiles back at me as they pass through the doors.

I couldn’t ruin this night for him, even if I wanted to.

“Sire, are you sure waiting is the best course of action?” asks Oswald. 

“I can’t tell him tonight. Let him sleep. Delgara,” I say, addressing the Commander. “I want Olivia Rendara brought to me at once.”

If he questions my motives for the order, he doesn’t voice them. Instead, he bows and exits the throne room. I cross to the window and look down to see a few protesters still sitting in the palace square. 

I wonder how long it’ll take them to give up.

*Milo*

I wake up to a loud, jarring snore. When my eyes snap open, I realize I’m about six inches from Princess Riley’s face, laying in her bed. Her snore echoes in my brain like the sonorous ringing of a gong.

“You’re so loud!” she says, opening her eyes a crack. “Why do you snore so loud?”

“That wasn’t me,” I protest. “It was you!”

“Princesses don’t snore,” she says in a dignified voice.

“Then I guess you aren’t a princess,” I say under my breath as I swing my legs out of her bed. I glance over at her door to see that it’s open. The shoulder of a guard can be seen just peeking around the doorframe.

“Guard!” I call out. When he turns, I see it’s Exavier. He looks about as well as I feel, which is to say lousy.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” he says. “Fun night?”

“You can say that,” I say, stretching as I stand up. “Where’s Aaron?”

“He’s…” Exavier pauses, looking serious. A pang of worry shoots through my hangover.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s in your room, Your Highness. He wishes to speak to you.”

“What’s wrong?” I repeat, taking several steps toward him.

“He’s fine,” assures Exavier. “He just…needs to talk to you.”

“I’ll go there at once.”

“Milo! Let’s get breakfast later!” I hear Riley call after me as Exavier and I walk through the door.

The hustle and bustle of the palace is much too loud for me, but it makes me remember my first hangover in this palace and the events that led to it…

*Sixteen Months Ago*

*Milo*

I’m following quickly behind Aaron, Oswald on our heels. Oswald doesn’t know about me and Aaron. I’m pretty sure he just assumes we’re friends. Aaron won’t tell me what’s under his cloak, but he’s very excited about it. When we enter his room, leaving Oswald at the door, Aaron pulls a bottle from under the folds of the cloak containing a clear liquid.

“What is that?” I ask.

“It’s tequila. It’s supposed to be really strong liquor. I was thinking,” he says, waving the bottle at me in a playful manner. “We could drink some and, you know…” He pokes me with the top of the bottle.

I nod and he wrenches the cork from the top, then smells it. The look on his face is enough to give me pause, but when he takes a swig and hands it out to me with a grimace on his face, I take the bottle anyway. I’m not dumb enough to smell it first, so I take a chug and nearly choke.

“Oh Gods,” I say in horror. The burn is too much for me, but I like the taste. Just one small swallow is enough to make my head feel fuzzy.

"Good, huh?" says Aaron, the look on his face saying he thinks it's anything but good. Still, he smiles at me, steps close to me, and plants his lips on mine. I can taste the alcohol on his breath, though the taste still lingers in my own mouth. 

He breaks away from me and hands over the bottle before walking out to his balcony, me right behind him. We look out over the lights of the city.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he says as I take another swallow from the bottle. I nod, my face twisting as I hand the bottle over.

We spend some time out on the balcony, chatting idly while sipping on the bottle until two thirds of it is gone and we’re both really drunk.

Aaron looks over at me, a playful smile on his lips before he drops to his knees and grabs the waistband of my pants.

“Aaron, wait,” I say as he pulls my pants down, but he ignores me. “We’re out in the—” before I can finish speaking, he pulls my soft cock into his mouth and it’s warmth pulls the blood into the appendage. I swell in his mouth as he sucks my cock and I lean my head back in pleasure as his throat closes over the head.

He pulls back and runs his tongue over the underside, flicking over the tip. I see a string of precum trail the head, momentarily connecting his tongue to my dick before it breaks.

“What were you saying?” he asks.

“We’re on the balcony. What if we get seen?”

“In the middle of the night?” he asks. “Also, I don’t know if you realize this, but my balcony is higher than any other on this side of the palace. Nobody can see us.”

“Okay, Your Highness,” I say and feel pleasure when he rolls his eyes. That pleasure doubles when he pulls me back into his mouth and starts working his head back and forth. I lean back onto the railing and my cock pushes deeper into his throat. I feel one of his hands cup my balls and he gives them a soft tug. The corners of his mouth turn up in a smile when I let out a gasp.

He stands a moment later and kisses me, pressing his body into mine, his hard cock pushing into my stomach through his pants.

“Let me top you tonight,” he says.

“I don’t know,” I respond. I’ve only bottomed once before and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. He smiles mischievously and pulls his shirt off, flexing his abs so they’re more prominent. The contrast of the light filtering outside from his room and the moonlight above make the muscles pop.

“You’re going to resist this?” he asks, indicating his body. He already knows he’s won. 

“Fine,” I tell him. “Just go slow.”

“I’d never want to do anything to hurt you,” he says. He pulls his pants down as I remove my shirt and kick my own pants to the side. He kisses me again, pulling me into him so our naked bodies press up against one another.

One of his hands wraps around my cock and he starts to rub me, causing me to gasp into his mouth. We move as one, stumbling both from being wrapped around each other and from the alcohol, to his bed in the room.

I lay him down and climb on top of him, straddling him, our cocks pressing together. I lean down and kiss him as I move my hips, making our cocks slide together. He looks up at me, his eyes drooping with alcohol and lust.

“I want to be inside you so bad,” he groans. 

I can only assume it’s the alcohol. He usually never wants to top. I’m not ready to do it yet, so I kiss my way down his body, stopping at his stomach to kiss every one of his abs. He smiles as if he’d be satisfied for me to stay here all night, but I continue down farther and run my tongue along the V above his pelvis. He lets out a shudder as I do.

When I get to his cock, I take it in my hand. I know it’s the same size as it’s always been but, now that it’s about to be inside me, it seems even bigger. I run my tongue up along the underside, stopping when I get to the head poking out of his foreskin. I pull the skin back, exposing it and lick it, forcing a groan from him.

As I swallow him down, he looks into my eyes with almost fascination, almost as if he doesn’t understand how something so simple can feel so good. I open my throat and let him slide in, then constrict it as I pull back.

“Oh…fuck…” he groans. Worried the lube might not be enough slickness for me, I gather as much saliva as I can and work it onto his dick.

“You like that?” I ask, stroking him to ensure the saliva covers the entire thing. Then I spit on his cock and feel it twitch in my hand.

“Fuck yes,” he says, still looking at me. Without warning, he bends up, scoops me up, and flips me onto my stomach. He lays on me and whispers, “Don’t forget we’re switching roles. I’m in charge tonight,” into my ear.

His hand runs down my back and slips into the crack of my ass. As his finger nears my hole, I can’t help but clench, even though it feels good when his finger slides over it.

With the way my head is turned, I can’t see him, but I know he’s grabbing the lube, his finger still prodding my hole, when I hear the drawer of his nightstand slide open. My heart starts racing at the thought of how much this is going to hurt.

“Flip over,” he says. I turn onto my back and, as I’ve seen him do many times, I pull a pillow up under me so my ass is raised. He looks down at me hungrily and I wonder if this is the same expression I have when he’s in this position. If so, no wonder why he likes it so much.

He squirts some of the lube onto his hand and starts rubbing my hole and, again, I can’t help but clench as he position his finger to push inside me.

“Relax,” he says, rubbing my stomach softly. I force myself to relax as he pushes a finger inside.

I gasp, though it doesn’t hurt. The sensation is foreign to me, but not overly unpleasant. When he finds my prostate and presses, I feel a shock of electricity shoot through me. He works my hole until he feels satisfied, then slips in a second finger. This is when the pain starts. I let out a hiss of discomfort, but he either doesn’t notice or thinks it’ll pass quickly.

He bends down and kisses me. A kiss which I return, even though I want his fingers out of me. The burn is too much for me to handle and I wonder vaguely how he can stand having a cock up his ass. Even the pleasure radiating from my prostate isn’t enough to overpower the burn.

Far too soon, he adds a third finger. I feel like I’m being ripped open.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I say, grabbing his wrist. “It hurts too much.”

“You’re not relaxed enough. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” I don’t return the smile he gives me, instead choosing to focus all my willpower on relaxing my sphincter.

He moves his hand more slowly and the pain retreats at a snail’s pace, though I can’t say pleasure replaces it. He pulls his fingers out and lubes his cock before putting the tip of the bottle on my asshole and squeezing so the lube fills me.

“Are you ready?” he asks. I nod, though I’m not. 

He moves into position, lowering himself onto the bed and lines his cock up to me.

“Relax,” he says and I nod again.

When the head of his cock enters me, I feel like I’m being ripped in half. I bite my lip and groan and he must have taken it as a sign of pleasure because he pushes a couple of inches in, then stops when I put my hand on his stomach.

“Pull out, it hurts too much,” I say, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll stay right here, you just need to adjust.”

He rubs my stomach again and it helps the pain recede. I move my hand away and nod to give him the go ahead to push in more. He does, coming all the way into me, his balls resting against my ass. He stops here again and gives me a few moments to adjust before moving his hips back and forth, thrusting in and out of me.

I close my eyes and try to enjoy it, but I can’t. I do enjoy it, however, when his lubed hand wraps around my cock and he starts to stroke. Eventually the pain recedes and I open my eyes to look at him fully. He puts his hands on my thighs and starts to fuck me faster. Even though it doesn’t hurt anymore, I’m not getting any enjoyment out of it. I can tell my the look on his eyes that he is, though.

Thankfully, Aaron doesn’t last long. I don’t know if it’s because he never tops or if the alcohol is somehow making him cum faster, but he groans as he explodes inside me and honestly, it’s the best part of this whole experience.

The door opens. Aaron pulls the blanket up around us as I grab one of his pillows to cover my face. I can feel I’m completely covered, though a foot is sticking out the side of the bed.

“Aaron, I need you to look—” says the voice of King Theodore.

My heart pounds in my chest as I feel Aaron whip his head around to look at his father.

“Oh, Gods!” says the King. “I didn’t realize. I should get…my word…”

“Father, get out!”

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked,” says the King. I can somehow tell he’s facing away from the bed. “I didn’t realize you’d have a lady in here. I should…yes…” I hear the King leave the room and the door shuts behind him.

When I pull the pillow off of my head and look at Aaron, we both burst out laughing.

“He thought you were a woman,” giggles Aaron. I can tell his cock is soft inside me now and he pulls out of me, which gives me great relief.

“He did,” I say, also laughing. 

“Good thing I came already. I could tell you weren’t enjoying it.”

“How do you enjoy that?” I ask.

“Let me show you,” he says, moving his mouth back to my cock, which fills with blood again at the thought of being back in its rightful place, inside Aaron.

*Present Day*

*Aaron*

When Milo enters our room, he’s holding his head in his hand. One look from him and I can tell he’s extremely hungover. Maybe I should wait until he’s feeling better to tell him what happened last night. No, I need to do it now. 

“Good morning,” says Milo when he’s shut the door. He walks over to me, wraps his arms around me, and kisses me. I kiss him back, and it starts to get heavier. He’s always so horny when he’s hungover. While there’s nothing I’d love more than for him to fuck me right here, right now, I know I can’t.

“Milo,” I say, pulling away from him. “I have to tell you about something that happened last night.”

He looks confused and worried as he says, “Okay.”

“Piper Dylan found me at the inn.” His face turns instantly into anger and fear.

“What did she do? Did she cast a spell?”

I roll my eyes at him and say, “Magic isn’t real, Milo. No, but she did drug me.”

“She what?!” he exclaims and puts his hands on either side of my face, looking into my eyes as though checking whether I’m lucid. “We should go to Zelda right now. She can tell us what she used.”

“Zelda didn’t find any drugs in my urine,” I say. “But that’s not the important part. I woke up alone in a room and a woman came in and she…” I trail off, but I can tell by his expression he doesn’t need me to continue.

“She cast a spell on you to make you sleep with a woman?” he asks, outraged.

“No, I told you, she drugged me.”

“But you said Zelda didn’t find any drugs in your system.”

“Nothing but alcohol.”

“So it must have been mag—”

“Magic isn’t real!” I almost shout, now feeling angry. It’s as though he doesn’t care about what happened to me. All he can focus on is fucking magic.

To my confusion, Milo steps back, looking angrier.

“So let me get this straight,” he says. “Zelda didn’t find any drugs in your system, so it can’t have been drugs. You’re saying magic isn’t real, so it can’t have been magic. If your logic is right, Aaron, then all that happened was you got drunk and slept with someone else.”

“What? Milo, that’s not what happened. She drugged me!”

“And how did she do that?”

“I don’t know. She switched our cups or put something in it.”

“Zelda would have found drugs in your system if you had been drugged, Aaron. Either it was magic or you cheated on me. Which is it?”

“Magic isn’t real,” I say again. His eyes fill with tears.

“So you cheated on me two days before our wedding?”

“I didn’t cheat!” I shout. “I was—”

But he doesn’t let me finish talking. He spins on his heel and walks out the door, slamming it shut behind him.