Chapter 1: Adeline I

The witch Adeline kept her head held high as she entered the king’s antechamber. Everywhere she went in the castle, maids would whisper to one another when they thought she couldn’t see or hear, and scurried away like mice whenever Adeline’s gaze found them. The black-armoured giants who composed the elite Veronomigan Guard would eye her suspiciously before looking away. Though loyal to a fault and fearsome in battle, the huge northmen were notoriously superstitious, a fact which bolstered Adeline’s pride in what would otherwise be an entire hostile situation.

Worst were the nobles. Servants would not speak out, even the older ones who would be able to question why Adeline had not seemed to age since the day of the king’s grandfather’s rule. But decades of rule under the weak King Amable, the current king’s father, had made them bold. A great many did not approve of the seemingly-immortal witch kept as an advisor by the royal family, and those few who did tolerated her only because she was useful.

She had pale silver hair that hung straight down to her shoulders, clear blue eyes and a slender, shapely body with small breasts. Her dress was very deliberately cut to cling to her, and, while simple, showed off the lines of her body. She wore the traditional pointed hat of her profession, to signal her magical prowess to onlookers- hopefully it would impress upon King Roland the serious nature of her powers. This would be her first audience with the new king- she wanted to look desirable, to play on his lusts, but also authoritative.

King Roland was young for his station, having orchestrated a coup to depose his father and send the latter into exile. He supposedly had his mother’s touch for diplomacy, and had negotiated his way into the position of the royal treasurer, smoothly displacing the former treasurer, Lord Ambrien. He then proved to be so successful at the position that the kingdom’s coffers increased despite the former king’s inadequacies ... and, with his hands on the purse-strings, King Roland was able to win the loyalty of Veronomigan Guard and take his father into custody. That was three months ago, and the ripples in the corridor of power have been expanding ever since.

To everyone who spoke well of him, the king was a genius savant, ready to usher in a new golden age for the Kingdom of Allore. For his critics, he was a greedy upstart who seized the reins of power so he could turn the castle into a decadent personal paradise to sate his lusts.

King Roland had a reputation for being possessed of an insatiable appetite for sex. As far back as his coming of age, and some rumours held that even earlier, he made a succession of lovers out of his personal servants. For a king to dirty himself with the peasant lovers was an unspeakable travesty to many of the nobility ... and even the King’s most ardent supporters saw it as unfortunate black mark.

Crossing the modest antechamber, Adeline saw the two guards at the entrance to the throne room cross their poleaxes, blocking her way. Mentally, she braced herself. This would be a good warm-up before the main battle.

“The King is not to be disturbed at this time,” the right-hand guard stated, his accent thick.

Adeline smiled. “His Grace has summoned me. He requires my council on matters of national import.” She let her smile widen as she drew her brows down, glaring in an evil grin. “You know who am I. Do you really want to bar my way?”

To their credit, the guards weren’t immediately cowed, although they hesitated and exchanged a worried glance. When Adeline reached out and parted their weapons as though they were mere curtains, then the two men relented, resuming their watchful stance.

The cavernous throne room, decorated with huge tapestries and the banners of noble houses that held (nominal) fealty to the king, was filled with wet slurping sounds. For the first time since his coronation, the witch beheld her King, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the rumours did indeed seem to be true.

Two maids in uniform, a blonde and a brunette, were knelt before the throne, their heads bobbing up and down rhythmically over the King’s erect cock. This king himself was leaning on the arm on the throne, head in hand as if this was just some idle afternoon entertainment. The crown rested atop his head, however, and despite the debauchery taking place, he did seem to have a regal bearing. Not as though he was above the act taking place, but in a confident way, as if he didn’t particularly care who knew that he was taking his pleasure.

Adeline curtsied deeply, schooling her face to appear neutral despite the act happening before her. From her position below the dais, she noticed that both maids wore no undergarments below the short skirts of their uniforms.

Her entry did not go unnoticed. With a snap of his fingers, the king dismissed the two maids, who looked disappointed and cast jealous glances at Adeline as they went. The royal cock, however, remained present, and hard, as King Roland looked over his court witch.

“I have need of your counsel, witch,” the king said simply.

“I live only to serve, Your Grace,” Adeline replied.

“Is that so?” He said, musing. He regarded Adeline silently for a time, as if coming to a decision. The witch was used to such beginner tactics- the long silence intended to make her uncomfortable, to put her off her guard. Instead she kept her gaze demurely lowered and waited. She was not quite a century old, and her magic has preserved her youth and wits alike.