A Prince's Pride

*Aaron*

My head hurts. Trying to keep everything Piper’s told me in my head feels like when I’ve eaten too much food during a feast.

“Okay, so just to recap,” I say, trying to force my brain to reorganize the information. “There are low level novices, high level adepts, and the middle levels are called…” I trailed off, unable to remember.

“Mid-range magic users are just called practitioners but are also called witches, wizards, sorcerers, or so on, depending on their speciality,” she repeats.

“Right,” I say. “And for specialties, witches are general practitioners, wizards deal mainly with benevolent magic, sorcerers deal mainly with malevolent magic, and mages primarily deal with the elements and forces of nature?”

“Exactly.”

“So what are seers then?” I ask.

“They’re in their own category. So, too, are healers, although they’re a subsection of witches. Then there are druids, witchdoctors, and warlocks, among some others.”

Yeah, my brain hurts.

“And there are different types of users, right? Depending on how they commune?” I say, trying to remember.

“Exactly, depending on how they commune with magic. For different communers, there are arcanists, who must use rituals taking regents and phases of the moon into account; enchanters, who imbue objects with magic; incanters, who use magic by spoken word; and the last one is advocates, who can command magic with thought alone. The only distinction is how they use their abilities, not what they use it for.”

“And witches, warlocks, and sorcerers aren’t the only type of magic users, right?”

“No, there are many more. And remember that just because someone specializes in a specific type of magic, that doesn’t mean they can’t practice others. For instance, I’m an adept witch incanter because I’m a high level, general practitioner of magic who uses my voice to commune with magic, though I can also enchant. I prefer not to use arcane magic if I can avoid it. It’s too limiting.”

“How so?”

“To heal you as an arcanist, I’d have to carve away part of the wounded flesh and combine several ingredients including the blood of a child, charred petal of an orange petunia, and the tear of your most beloved under the light of a full moon and use the salve to heal you.”

“Gods, that sounds complicated. And gross.”

“I did warn you. It’s taken me decades to learn the amount about magic I do. If only I were a born advocate. They can command magic without much knowledge. Magic is woven into their very soul.”

“I hope we never meet one,” I say, worried. I know magic is heavily revered in Sandalia, where witchdoctors are prevalent and there are many mages in the Southern Tribes. I just never thought they actually practiced magic. I thought it was folklore and stories. Once magic was outlawed in Midoor, my father wouldn’t let me travel to a nation that allowed its practice. Thankfully, King Zannir followed my father’s example and made all magic illegal in the Lower Reach.

“Advocates are extremely rare. There are less than a dozen alive today, I’d wager.”

“That is lucky.” We sit in silence for several more moments before I break it. “Have you thought any more about my offer? I know I only asked a couple of hours ago, but I would really like to have your skills and knowledge on my side. Especially given how little you’ve shown me I understand about magic.”

Piper stares at me with a blank expression. Had I not been sitting less than six feet from her, I’d wonder if she didn’t hear me. She doesn’t move a muscle as she gazes at me for a solid twenty seconds.

“I have,” she says suddenly. “I will join you and help you in matters relating to magic.”

“Thank—” I begin to say, but she cuts me off.

“If King Milo says he wants me to stay.”

The small blossom of hope that began blooming in my chest withered away. Milo would never ask her to stay, but I have to try. We know nothing about magic. And while I know Piper is right that the Red Hand wouldn’t use magic nonchalantly, I can’t help but wonder what they would do if they were backed into a corner.

“I’ll talk to him,” I tell her. “I’ll make him see reason.”

*Milo*

When I leave my room a little while later, I find Exavier standing by the door.

“Do you know where Aaron is?” I ask.

“For a married couple, you two seem to never know where the other is,” he says.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Perfect Husband? Where’s your wife right now?”

“It’s just after midday, so she’s tending to her garden. She’s growing peppers this summer to sell to the market down our street. In about an hour, she’ll have to head down to said market to buy ingredients for our dinner tonight. She’s making chicken parmesan. I don’t know what it is, but she got the recipe from someone she met when she was helping her father on his fishing ship.”

“Show off,” I say, causing him to smile.

“I have no idea where His Majesty is. Perhaps we could check the throne room?”

“It’s as good an idea as any,” I say and lead the way.

When we enter the throne room, we don’t find Aaron, but Riley is sitting on her throne, looking frustrated.

“Is everything okay, Your Highness?” I ask as I approach. As I am now king consort, I outrank her so I don’t have to use her royal title, but I’m so used to it, I barely think about it.

“No. I think they switched the cushions that were on my throne and Aaron’s old one. It’s flat.”

“That must be the cushion that sat on your father’s throne. We switched them when Aaron ascended.”

She stops fidgeting in the seat and instead settles herself onto the cushion. I watch as she touches the cushion with light fingers.

“Should I switch the cushions, Princess?” asks her Royal Attendant.

“No,” she says, sounding distracted. “I’ll…I’ll keep it.”

This makes me sad. I knew how devastated Aaron was when King Theodore died and it’s obvious how it’s affected Elaine, but I never really thought about how his death affected Riley. She’s always seemed so…strong.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” asks Riley. “I’m overseeing preparations of the new throne room, on the King’s orders.”

“I’m looking for Aaron, but that can wait. Did you go talk to Piper?” I ask, remembering she was going to.

“Yeah, and either she’s a really good actress, or she’s just a good person. She seems genuinely happy to have magic legalized, but that’s not exactly surprising. She told me a bit about her life and, I don’t know. I can get a pretty good read on people. She doesn’t seem to want to hurt us.”

“Didn’t you try to talk Aaron into hating Corianne?” I ask, then immediately regret it, but Riley doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah, well, everyone makes mistakes. I think I was blinded by the fact that she was about to steal Aaron away from you.”

Behind me, the throne room doors open and I turn to see Piper walking in, her head held high. She’s wearing a knee-length, plain, gray dress.

“Your Majesty,” she says to me. “I’m glad I found you. King Aaron is on his way to speak to you, but I wanted to talk to you first, if you would be so kind.”

“Uh…sure,” I say, not sure at all. “What is it?”

“Perhaps we could talk in private?” she suggests when she reaches me, glancing around at all the servants.

“Everyone!” I call out. The servants stop their work and look to me. “Please vacate the hall.”

The servants start to file out but Exavier and Brenda Kilter, Riley’s sworn protector, don’t move.

“I’d prefer to talk to you without the princess and her protector. Forgive me, Your Highness,” she adds with a bow to Riley.

“No, no, it’s okay. I should go check on my mother anyway. Come along, Kilter.”

Kilter bows to Riley as she stands and the two of them leave, shutting the throne room doors behind them. It’s just me, Exavier, and Piper now.

“What I wanted to talk to you about is highly sensitive,” she says. “I doubt I could convince you to speak to me without Exavier present, but I must insist he not talk about this to anyone without your approval. Not even King Aaron.”

“Okay,” I say and look at Exavier.

“Understood, Your Majesty,” he says.

“What is this about?” I ask Piper. She looks at me with that same appraising look she gave me when I woke up in the infirmary.

“It concerns you, Your Majesty. I’m not exactly sure how to tell you this, truth be told.”

“Well, spit it out,” I urge.

She seems to steel herself, then beings to speak. “Milo, Your Majesty, you—”

Her words are cut off when the throne room’s doors open. I glance over her shoulder and see Piper stride in. She’s wearing a tight black dress that grips her calves, the arms long enough they almost trail on the ground.

Wait…Piper? I glance from the Piper in front of me to the Piper walking down the long carpet leading up to the thrones. There’s two of them? They are perfectly identical, both with raven-black hair and eyes like ice. The only distinction is that the new Piper’s hair is longer, hanging around her waist, rather than around her shoulders. Her hair is loosely tied behind her head.

“There you are!” says the long-haired Piper, looking at the short-haired Piper.

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask the short-haired Piper. “You made a clone of yourself?”

“I am no clone,” the long-haired Piper says. “My name is Phoebe. I’m Piper’s sister.”

“You’re twins?” asks Exavier.

“Less so, I think, now that my dear sister has chopped off her hair. You look ridiculous,” says Phoebe.

I look between Piper and Phoebe. Every single detail about their face is the same, down to the small black lines in the irises of their eyes. Twins can be identical, of course, but this is uncanny.

Then, a sudden realization hits me and the blood in my very veins turns cold as I remember the words of the old woman.

But, be warned a raven-haired woman with eyes of ice. She has not the best interest at heart where your love is concerned.

This is the only part of my prediction that hasn’t come true. Now there are two of them? Which one is the one I’m supposed to watch out for?

“What are you even doing here?” asks Piper. “How did you even get into the Palace? It’s supposed to be on lockdown after the attack.” This is true, and it raises another concern for me.

“I’m here to make sure you’re okay, little sister. And getting in was easy. Once the guards saw me, they let me in, thinking I was you. I just…played along.”

“Gods, I’m going to have to talk to the guards,” I say.

“I’m fine,” says Piper, sounding annoyed. “There was no need for you to—”

“Forgive my intrusion, Your Majesty,” says Phoebe, cutting over her sister’s words. “I also wanted to personally thank you and His Royal Majesty, King Aaron, for legalizing magic. It has already done wonders for my people.”

“You should thank Piper for that, actually,” I say, “she made it happen.” Why am I defending Piper? I’m not sure, but something about Phoebe’s presence unnerves me. She and Piper are the same height, but Piper seems to shrink before her. Piper glances at me, almost as if asking me for my help.

“Guard!” I shout at the door. It opens a second later and a guard walks in, holding her spear in an offensive stance.

“What is it, Your Maj—” When she sees Piper and Phoebe standing side by side, she looks dumbstruck. “Gods, there’s two of them now?”

“Twins,” says Phoebe and comprehension dawns on the guard’s face.

“Please take Phoebe to an inn in the Upper Ring. She is forbidden from entering the palace without mine or the King’s say so.”

“I have done nothing wrong, Your Majesty. Surely you wouldn’t—”

“You snuck into the royal palace by pretending to be someone else while it is on lockdown after an attack by a terrorist organization,” I say, talking over her. “You’re lucky I don’t send you to the dungeons.” That shuts her up and puts a grin on Piper’s face.

“Very—very well, Your Majesty, then I thank you for your mercy. Piper, please join me when you are free.” Phoebe turns on her heel and walks from the throne room behind the guard, who shuts the door behind her.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” says Piper a moment later. “I swear I had no idea she was going to come here. She will cause trouble, no doubt. It’s her specialty.”

“Is she a witch, too?” I ask.

“Technically, she’s a druid. They—”

“Forget about her for now,” I say. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

“Right.” She glances at Exavier, almost as if she wants to suggest he leave as well, but seems to think better of it. “Your Majesty, you might not want to believe this, but you—”

The throne room door opens again and in steps Aaron, Oswald right behind him. Another interruption?

“Wait…” says Aaron when he sees Piper, “weren’t you just—”

“Oh, for the God’s sake!” Exavier bursts out. “They’re twins!”

“You forget yourself, Sir Cromwell,” says Aaron, looking surprised at Exavier’s outburst rather than outraged. Exavier seems on tender hooks, wanting to hear what Piper wants to tell me.

“Aaron, Sir Oswald, please leave the throne room,” I say. “Piper, what were you going to say?”

“I really should tell you without—” she starts, but she’s interrupted yet again when someone walks into the throne room. She’s a young woman, wearing the uniform of a messenger.

I’m starting to get annoyed. Whatever Piper wants to tell me, it’s obviously very important.

“Your—Your Majesties,” says the messenger, doubled over and holding a stitch in her side. She’s clearly ran hard and fast from wherever she came from.

“What is it?” asks Aaron.

“I have…news…” she stands up, still holding her side, and breathing hard, “from the…frontlines…of the…northern…border…”

“Calm down and catch your breath,” says Aaron. We all stand quietly, watching as she calms her breathing.

“Thank you, my king,” she says, still panting slightly. “King Zannir has ordered his men to attack us. They’ve began the war. We were forced to turn the soldiers heading toward the city around and engage them. We won the skirmish at the border, but the generals have seen this as fair engagement. They’ve ordered their soldiers to advance over the border and are heading for the Lower Reach’s capital city of Luxom.”

Aaron turns to look at me, worry on his face. Without those soldiers, we won’t be able to increase our efforts to search for Red Hands within the city. We have enemies on our doorstep and not enough manpower to search for them.

“Send a different messenger back with my approval for the attack. Tell them to advance on the capital and begin siege on Luxom. They are not to attempt capture of the capital until my arrival.”

The messenger nods and runs from the throne room at top speed.

“Your arrival, Your Majesty?” asks Oswald. “Sire, I don’t think—”

“No arguments, Oswald,” warns Aaron. “The Lower Reach killed my father. I’m going to personally see to it that King Zannir is brought to justice. Milo will be coming with me. In my absence, Riley will rule over Midoor.”

“With the attack that just happened?” asks Oswald. “Forgive me, but I think you should stay in Midoor. Without its Kings, Midoor will be weakened. If the Red Hand—”

“Perhaps King Milo should stay,” suggests Piper. She turns to me. “No offense, Your Majesty, but you’re not exactly a warrior. King Aaron can lead the charge in Luxom while you hold power here.”

I wonder about this. Truthfully, I don’t think Aaron should go, but I know he won’t listen to me. Since he became king, he’s talked about going to the Lower Reach several times. Plus, if I stay here, I can figure out what Piper and Phoebe are up to.

My only worry, other than Aaron’s life, is how the kingdom will react to me, a former servant and the first gay king consort, being the sole hand guiding the nation for a time.

“I think that’s a good idea,” I say. “Aaron, you go to the Lower Reach. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

“I’ll leave in the morning,” says Aaron. “Oswald, you will accompany me.”

“Good. Also, Piper, I wanted to extend the invitation that Aaron gave you from myself as well. We could benefit from your knowledge of magic.”

Aaron looks stunned, and I don’t doubt why. But I want her where I can keep an eye on her and her sister. I don’t know which witch the old woman was talking about, but I’m going to find out.

“The room you now occupy in the palace shall be your permanent residence, if it suits you,” I continue. “I’ll discuss what your actual duties will be with you tomorrow.”

“That’s settled, then,” says Piper. “I should go down to the Upper Ring and see what my sister is up to.”

Without so much as another word, Piper walks swiftly from the throne room. It’s not until she’s gone that I remember she wanted to tell me something important. Oh well. I’ll have plenty of time to ask her later.

*Aaron*

Over the next few hours, I try to psych myself up for the journey into the Lower Reach. The plans have been set for a while now, and I shouldn’t have anything to worry about. My army is the largest in the five kingdoms. They’re to spread north and create a barrier which I will ride behind. Other soldiers will come in behind the unit escorting me and protect me from the rear. My unit will be able to defend me from either side, should the enemy try coming in that way.

I’m doing a terrible job psyching myself up. I can’t help but fear leaving for this journey. I’m a king, so I shouldn’t fear death, right? I should be able to ride into battle, my loyal soldiers at my side, and not be afraid, right? Only, I’m terrified. I could change the plan, order the soldiers to go in without me.

I have to only think of my father, of the arrow that killed him, and I know I have to go. Plans are already lain for what we’re going to do once we take over the Lower Reach.

“Are you okay?” asks Milo when we head for bed that night. He’s standing on the side nearest the balcony, looking over it at me.

I’m proud of the way he’s handled all this. Originally, he insisted on accompanying me on the mission to the Lower Reach. He’s been taking his kingly duties more seriously lately and I’m very happy about that, but going without him seems like tempting fate. What if the Red Hand attacks while I’m gone? Can he handle it?

I remember the way he took charge after the wedding. The way he helped to turn the chaos after the attack around. I think he can handle anything thrown his way. Plus, Oswald is right. If I’m killed in Luxom, Midoor needs its king.

“Yeah,” I say, answering his question. “I’m just scared. Going into the heart of the Lower Reach…” I trail off, but I don’t need to say anything else. We’ve been back in sync since we repaired our relationship from our fight. I can practically read his mind as he stares at me.

You can do this, he’s saying. I know you can.

“You know one thing that might make you feel better?” asks Milo. He touches his lip with his finger and starts trailing it down over his chin, tracing along his throat, down his chest, over his stomach, and stops it at the waistband of his pants.

I smile and climb up onto the bed, crawling over to him. He places a hooked index finger under my chin and lifts it so I’m looking up at him. I stare into his eyes, trying not to wonder if this is the last time I’ll ever see them, and he kisses me. I push myself up and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me as his tongue pushes its way into my mouth.

In the blink of an eye, we’re both naked. He pushes me onto my back and looks down at me, staring at my abs as if he’s taking a mental picture, wanting to remember them for the rest of his life. He climbs on top of me and kisses me deeply, biting my lower lip as he pulls back.

His lips trail down my body, kissing nearly every inch of space between my neck and cock. It’s cold enough in our room that I’m shivering slightly. That shivering increases as Milo pulls me into his mouth. Warmth seems to radiate from his mouth and erupt over my body, warming me in an instant. I gasp as he pulls me all the way inside him, nestling his nose into my pubes.

He rests there for a moment, flexing his throat on my cock. I let out a small, involuntary groan as he squeezes his throat and pulls back, sliding his throat over my cock. I look down at him and see a string of saliva connecting his throat at the head of my dick that breaks a moment later. I can’t help but smile at him as he dips back down, stroking my cock as he pulls one of my balls into his mouth.

“Fuck yeah, babe, lick my balls,” I tell him. He responds in kind, running his tongue over each ball in turn. I spread my legs and lift them up, inviting him to move farther down. His tongue slides across my sack, down my gooch, and onto my hole. Rapid fire bursts of electricity overlap each other in a race as they rocket over my body with each flick of his tongue.

He keeps stroking my cock as his tongue penetrates me, forcing a moan from me with each plunge.

“Mmmm,” he says when he pulls away. “Your hole tastes so fucking good.”

“Don’t stop then,” I tell him, and he immediately goes back to the attack. I don’t want him to stop. I never want him to stop. I know that when we wake up in the morning, I’ll be leaving for the Lower Reach. Who knows how long I’ll be gone? Who knows when I’ll get to see him again.

If I’ll ever get to see him again…

When two of his fingers enter me, I immediately forget all about the Lower Reach. He twists his fingers inside me, sending reverberations of pleasure rocketing through me every time his fingers rake over my prostate. He sits up on his knees and looks me in the eyes as his hand turns and he presses hard into my prostate. My cock leaks precum onto his hand. He pulls it away, strings of precum stuck between his fingers, and sucks on the digits, pulling them out covered in saliva.

His fingers never leaving my hole, he stands and moves up to me and kisses me. The salty sweet taste of my precum fills my mouth as his tongue enters it. I can taste my ass on him, too, like honeysuckle.

When he pulls away from me, my body screams in protest, but I know it’ll have what it wants soon enough. Milo lays beside me, his cock near my head. I bend over and suck him into my mouth as he sucks me into his. We’re an ouroboros, devouring each other in a circle, but in the best way possible. I reach out and cup his balls with a hand. He gasps around my cock as he works his throat over it. I give them a squeeze and he jerks in pleasure.

He reaches a hand down as he works my cock with his mouth and his fingers clamp over one of my nipples, pinching and twisting lightly. I almost bite down on his cock from the shock of pleasure that rockets through my body, but I resist, thank the Gods.

When I pull off of him, I know we’re both ready for what comes next.

I get up on my knees and bend over for him, not even needing him to ask, but he doesn’t seem to want that. Instead, he puts a hand on my thigh and, by applying light pressure, directs me to flip over on my back.

He pulls a pillow from the top of the bed and slides it under me, lifting my ass for him. He nestles down between my legs and slides in, fitting inside me perfectly.

He leans over and looks me in my eyes as he starts to thrust in and out, looking at me, making love to me. Our souls leave our bodies and dance in the ethereal plane while the beautiful music of our love directs them in a dance.

He starts to thrust faster, but not harder, being gentle and passionate. He lowers his forehead to mine and stares deep into the recesses of my being as he works. A spark of understanding shoots between us as he does so. As I moan softly and he pants with the effort.

Our lips meet and we’re connected in more ways than one, in every way possible. He reaches a hand up and runs it through my hair, but not rough like he normal would. He’s caressing me as he slides in and out of me.

It makes it too real for me. The fact that I could die within days of this. I push on his chest and he obeys my silent commands, laying back on his back. I climb on top of him and slide him into me, then start to ride him, up and down, up and down as he strokes my abs.

When I look back down at him, my resolve to leave wavers. I bounce on him quicker and bend backward, so his cock presses into my prostate with every bounce. He’s gasping in pleasure now as I squeeze my ass around him.

Without warning, he wraps his arms around me and picks me up, his cock still inside me. I know, somehow, what he wants me to do. I reach up and grip the bar connecting the posts of the four poster bed together and hang there. He supports me, with my legs wrapped around him and starts to fuck me hard.

This is the most perfect angle he’s found yet for hitting my prostate. My body aches with the pleasure radiating from the spot where his cock is slamming into me. As, with every thrust into me, he pushes me back, then I come slamming down onto him, his cock beating against my prostate. The very earth could be quaking beneath our feet and I wouldn’t know.

He’s grunting with the effort of holding me up and the pleasure of his cock slamming into me over and over and over again.

I feel my orgasm build and build and build. It doesn’t stop, filling up my entire body. Every time his cock slams into my prostate, it fills me with an intense, burning pleasure so strong, I feel as though I might explode. When I do explode, my ass squeezes tighter than it ever has before. So tight, he’s seemingly unable to move his cock inside me.

My ass convulses on him, and I see his eyes roll back into his head as my cock unleashes a torrent of cum that splatters my body, shooting up past my head and into the room behind me.

“Oh…fuck!” he actually shouts and I feel him swell inside me, his cock growing larger and larger as it fills with his seed before it spills inside me, gushing like a geyser breaking free after decades of building pressure. He clutches me, his body shaking.

When he falls backwards, I go with him, his cock still inside me. I kiss him as I work my hips back and forth, working my ass over his cock. He shudders and gasps as his orgasm fades before going still.

*Milo*

When Aaron and I wake up the next morning, I start to feel some of the fear he's been feeling as though it's leeching off him and soaking into my skin. I start wondering what it would be like if he never came back. What it would be like to be the sole reigning monarch of Midoor.

I try to push it away. He's coming back. Of course he is. I see him off, standing beside the entrance gates to the palace.

"Be safe," I tell him as he climbs up onto his horse. My crown tips back when I look up at him. He insisted I wore it down here, but I'm not sure why. I can still feel the warmth of his lips on mine from when he kissed me only moments ago.

As he rides away, I want to call him back. To tell him not to go, that our soldiers can handle this. But I won't do that. He has to do this, I know he does.

I watch him until he and his entourage, Oswald among them, are less than specks in the distance. I stand for so long, it's not until Exavier speaks that I realize how long it's been.

"Perhaps we should go back up to the palace, Your Majesty," he suggests. I just nod and turn to follow him up into the entrance hall.

"Let's find Piper," I say once we're in the palace proper.

"Thank the Gods," says Exavier, "I've been so curious about that since she mentioned it."

"Well, you'll find out what it is today."

We make our way up to Piper's room and I knock on the door. It opens so quickly, I wonder if Piper was standing on the other side, ready to open it at a moment's notice.

"Your Majesty," she says as if she was expecting me, "good morning. Please, come in."

Exavier and I enter her room and look around. Boxes and books litter the room, stacked on the floor and on the solitary table there.

"Looks like you're getting comfortable," I say.

"Yes. I had this stuff brought here out of storage yesterday evening."

"I suppose you want to talk about your duties as the Royal Advisor on Magic."

"We'll get to that," she says. "I wanted to finish our conversation from yesterday. The more I think about it, the more I think we should talk in private. Without Exavier, I mean," she adds as if I didn't understand her meaning already.

"But—" starts Exavier, but I silence him with a hand.

"Go, Exavier, I'll be fine."

He looks like he wants to stay, but he doesn't disobey my order. Depending on what Piper tells me, I'll decide whether or not I tell him.

"So what's this big news?" I ask her.

In response, she walks towards me. I force myself not to flinch away as she raises her hand, two of her fingers extended out to me.

She puts her fingers near the divot under my throat where the sides of my collarbone meet. I feel an odd warmth expand in my chest, like a warm balloon swelling inside me.

"What are you doing to me?" I ask.

"I'm not doing anything to you. It's a reaction to my magic."

I stare at her, thinking I know what she's talking about. But, it can't be…

"You know what I'm talking about," she says. It's not a question, but a statement. I just look at her and swallow.

"Are you saying…what I think you're saying?"

She nods and speaks.

"Milo," she says, "you have magic."